Eternal Synergy
by LoveInChains
Summary: Sequel to Perfect Synergy: Five years after Cuba and Max is back. And upon returning to "the Palace" she receives a cryptic warning from the estranged Raven Darkholme. At first, she thinks nothing of it. But, in time, she comes to realize that Raven's right. There's something wrong with everyone and Magneto has absolutely nothing to do with it.
1. Chapter 1

**Eternal Synergy**

****"_The world is never quiet, even its silence eternally resounds with the same notes, in vibrations which escape our ears. As for those that we perceive, they carry sounds to us, occasionally a chord, never a melody._" - Albert Camus

* * *

Have you ever come back from a long vacation and everything around you was different? Where up is down and Fido's wearing a tutu? That's what I experienced when I came back to the Palace. But I wasn't on a long vacation, you see. I was dead in every sense of the word. Then, one day, miraculously and, for the purpose of suspense and story, unexplainably, I was alive. Instead of up being down, up meant there was a Zebra in the dishwasher and Jupiter was tanning in the Bahamas. Five years later and absolutely nothing was the same. My friends had all moved onto the next stage in their lives, gotten married, had children, they had... They'd lived, essentially. I didn't really fit in anymore. I was still a hot-headed teenager were mentality was concerned. They were all adults, even little Scottie, who had become an even bigger part of my life yet had not been more absent from it. Sometimes, it ate me up inside, the fact that everyone was so foreign to me. None more so than Hank. Once a scrawny, chestnut haired, blue eyed, shy little thing, now a muscular man with blue skin covered head to toe with even bluer fur and yellow eyes that haunted you. That much of him hadn't changed, I didn't think it ever would. But the mind of the man I loved had gone from calm and calculated to frantic and deranged.

I'll admit I was scared; I was utterly terrified that I was going to lose someone. But, if I'm truly honest with myself, I'd already lost them. I'd lost them to someone I called a friend, someone I trusted. I hated that I didn't see it sooner. That I didn't act on my suspicions, that I didn't confront him! I mean, I was so grateful to be back that I didn't want to ruin the little bit of happiness I had. They warned me, people I was told to fear and hate were looking out for me better than any person I called a friend. To this day, I rack my brain, wondering what I could've done differently. Never has a plausible answer come to me, in all my years and trust me I've had plenty of them. That's not my story. The newest development to my not-so epic tale is one of a snake crawling back into an old skin. Of Maxine Edith Dugen-Fuller trying to merge back into the life she had, once upon a time, even though that life was hopelessly lost. Now, this story starts off like every tragic tale ever told (excluding the first installment of it), it starts late at night... in the rain.

Typical.

I don't quite recall the exact date, but the year was 1967. It was cold, wet, and ominous in the small town I had appeared in. There wasn't a soul out that night, no cars on the street, complete silence greeted me save for the constant pitter patter of rain drops on pavement. The oil lamps had all been extinguished for the night. Staggering down the boulevard was a girl in a sleeveless blue and yellow Kevlar suit, with waist length black hair and piercing yellow eyes. She clutched at her sides as she walked; her feet forgetting how to move at times. Her knees wobbled, her teeth chattered, and her shoulders shook.

This is me, of course. A little rattled and a little off kilter but nothing I couldn't handle. I was soaked to the bone in a skin tight suit without a snowballs chance in hell to find my way home. By looking around me, I could tell that the shops were closed and had been for quite some time. I had no idea of how I was going to even locate myself, let alone find enough money to get to somewhere I recognized. Desperate,I forced myself to the nearest house and I rasped my shaky knuckles lightly against the wood of the front door. I waited a minute before coming to the realization that everyone inside the house was probably asleep.

Well, I knew that that plan was a bust. I sighed, much in a fashion similar to that of a horse, and I sank to the ground... More like fell. I decided to remain there briefly to think of something else. After all, I had all the time in the world. My eyes flitted all over the place, trying to find a sign or whatever to help decipher my location. Finally I saw the lights of a gas station off in the distance. And where there's a gas station there's a way! Sorry, trying to remain optimistic. Optimism can only help a situation, right?

Careful of the porcelain cat two inches from my feet, I stood. My knees still felt like jell-o but walking was considerably easier. I reached the gas station a couple of minutes later and it was locked_. 'Great,'_ I thought, _'Guess I'm toughing it out until morning. If this rain doesn't let up I'm going to electrocute someone.'_ I groaned loudly, looking up at the black sky and praying silently that something good would come my way.

But I knew better than to rely on something I couldn't see. I looked to the pay phone that happened to be on my right. Who would I call? I don't know the number to the Palace and I sure as hell wasn't calling home. My poor little mother would die of fright. There was still someone I could call... I kept their name in my mind as I settled on my next plan of action. I looked down at my feet and kicked off my boots/shoes. Next thing I knew I was running down the road as fast as I could... Which was considerably faster than I remembered. I paid that no heed because that weird smile you get when you hit a runners high formed on my face as I whizzed past road markers and ripe road kill. Ew. That faltered me slightly.

I shook my head clear of the bloody images of Bambi and kept an eye open for something that could tell me where I was. I didn't exactly come across something, but someone. Actually, two someone's. A boy and a girl walking along train tracks off in the distance. I probably wouldn't have noticed them if it wasn't for the girls pale hair being so vibrant in the light of a half moon. Don't know how that was even possible, given the rain, but I didn't care. I needed to get the heck outta Dodge. Cautiously I ran over to them.

"Hey!" I called. Both turned sharply, each with a look of panic on their face. I slowed my pace so as not to alarm them more, "It's okay, I'm not here to hurt you." I promised my hands up and palms towards them in a sign of peace.

The boy, no older than 13, placed himself between his sister, at least I assume it was his sister, and me, "You're American." He said in a very thick Russian accent.

Shit. Just my luck, "Yes. My name's Max, what's yours?" I asked in some attempt to make a connection with them.

His brow furrowed. He was probably contemplating whether he could trust me or not, "In your language it sounds something similar to Peter." He informed me, looking back at his sister he motioned for her to speak.

"Illyana." She said quietly with a small wave and her accent equally as thick. Illyana looked at me with a slight fear. A fear of the unknown. After all, I was a random girl approaching them in the rain.

I smiled, "It's nice to meet you." I said kindly to the girl. Before I could say anything else, Peter purposefully blocked my view of her. A protective brother. Where have I seen that before? "No small talk, gotcha." I said, giving an 'O.K.' with my hand, "I was wondering if you could tell me where this is." I said, gesturing all around me.

Peter cocked an eyebrow at me, "I do not understand..."

"Well..." I began, "I'm sort of... Err... Lost and I need to find my way back home." I half-explained as I awkwardly scratched the back of my head and toed some mud with my bare feet.

"Ah." Peter exclaimed, "You're currently on the Ust-Ordynski Collective along Lake Baikal."

I nodded, "Yeah... I have no idea where that is. Happen to know the coordinates?" I asked, still scratching the back of my head. I had no idea who these kids were and I didn't want to impose or anything.

Peter glowered at me, "Are you a spy?" He asked, oh so bluntly.

I chuckled, "I hope not. I'm about as subtle as a tank."

His gaze didn't falter. For a teenager he sure did have a steely gaze. I mean, come on, he couldn't have been older than 15 but he was glaring at me harder than Erik would. And he probably had 30 some odd years to perfect it! "The coordinates are 53 degrees, 30 minutes north, 108 degrees, two minutes east." He offered hesitantly.

I repeated that over and over in my head so there wasn't a chance in hell that I'd forget it. I took Peter's hand and shook it, "Thank you so much, you two." I said with a smile and ran back in the opposite direction, leaving both of them with confused expressions on their faces. I wished that I could've stayed and explained things to them, I just didn't have time.

So, once again, I was running. I ran back to the gas station and nearly rammed into the pay phone full force. I took the phone off the receiver and held it between my cheek and shoulder as I punched in a number. Not telling you what the number was because it's a secure line that you shouldn't even know exists. I couldn't exactly get my call through. There was an issue of me not paying. I placed my hand on the call box and sent various currents of electricity through it until I overrode the technicalities and my call went through.

It rang once before some gruff guy answered, "*****, Lieutenant Brady speaking."

"I need to speak to a Petty Officer Dugen; I don't know where he's stationed right now." I asked of Mr. Brady.

Lieutenant Brady cleared his throat, "Uh, ma'am, this line isn't meant for social calls so, in the future, if you could-"

"Yeah yeah yeah, I know what this line's used for. See, I'm in a bit of a pickle and I need to know if Petty Officer Dugen is currently deployed." I insisted.

The lieutenant groaned, "Alright, miss. I'll patch you through."

For whatever reason, I nodded. I mean, I knew he couldn't see me so why the hell would I do it? Oh yeah, I'm Maxine Edith Dugen-Fuller, the resident idiot, "Thank you." I muttered as I waited for the line to transfer.

After a few minutes, someone finally picked up, "Sergeant Wilkes." The man said.

"I need to speak to Petty Officer Dugen, family emergency." I said briefly, hoping to talk to my brother as soon as possible.

The Sergeant snorted, "Alright, I'll see what I can do." He took the phone away from his ear, "It's momma Fuller callin' again for her idiot son."

I sort of guffawed when I heard him say that. My mom and I did not sound alike in any way shape or form. I had a nice husky alto thing going on from all the cigarettes and whiskey while my mom had this sort of sing-song thing goin' on. Not like I could've objected. I was in no position to complain so I just sat there in the rain until someone came back to the phone. And when someone did come back, it was not someone I was expecting.

"Mom, you've got to stop calling. I told you that I'm fine. The girls patched me up real nice." I heard my brother say, just not the brother I was expecting.

"Cole?" I asked in bewilderment, "Since when are you in the Navy?" When I had called asking for P.O. Dugen, I had Lucas in mind. Cole was a grunt in the army last I knew!

There was a brief silence, "I've been in the navy for four years... Who's this?" Cole asked. I could tell that he found my voice familiar. The slightest bit of hostility in his tone gave it away. Seeing as I was technically dead, hostility was, probably, an appropriate response.

I gave myself a second or two to prep myself for what was to come. Cole and I weren't all that close, probably even less now, me being dead for the past however long I was under. I had no idea how he would react. I assumed anger and disbelief. But you know what they say about assuming! Makes an ass out of u and me! Ha. Ha ha. Ha ha ha ha. I do that well enough on my own without a little play on words, thank you very much. Ignore me, I tend to get sidetracked.

I exhaled, "It's Max, I-" I stopped when I heard angry breathing. That's right; I totally forgot that Cole practically steamed when he got pissed. Our own personal Puff the Magic Dragon.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't hang up and call the cops." He seethed, "If this is some sick joke, I'll come and strangle you myself."

Woah. Touchy. I don't remember him being so violent. That right was always reserved for Devin and his self-loathing/homophobic tendencies towards himself, "It's really me, Cole, I don't know how and I don't know why, but I'm back!" I tried to explain. I don't blame the guy for not believing me. I couldn't figure out how the hell I was breathing air when I was supposed to be electricity for all eternity.

He was silent for a while before finally saying, "Prove it."

I exhaled again. Then I started pilfering through my brain to think of something only Cole and I would know, "We had a little brother, Gabe?" I tried.

"Could've easily found that in public records. Sorry, don't believe you. Enjoy the cops breaking down your door." He said snidely and went to hang up the phone.

I didn't know who else to contact, I couldn't let this opportunity pass me by! "Wait, Cole, please!" I pleaded, on the brink of tears. I listened for a few seconds, thinking he had hung up, when he let out a laboured sigh.

"You have five minutes." He said in an exasperated tone.

I smiled. Some part of Cole knew that, deep down, I was his little sister. He just didn't want to admit it without a fight. Standard response for a Dugen, "Okay. Five minutes. No problem." I said in confidence. If only that confidence could've lasted more than a brief moment because after two minutes I felt completely defeated. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. There was not a thing that the others didn't know about! Damn us and our extremely tight knit family!

It would be another minute before something finally came to me. Something that happened when I was a wee lass in the Shire... Okay. I'm not a hobbit, but it sounds cool.

"I got it. When you were nine and I was six, I was out playing in the mud making the best damn mud pie ever when you and the boys came out running to play some tackle. You were pulling up the rear and you heard me cursing your names over my destroyed pies. You, being a mature nine year old, took that to mean that you should destroy them even more. So, when you turned to run away, I wrapped my arms around your thighs and bit down on your left ass cheek. It left quite a promiscuous scar.

"Then, six years later, Devin saw it and when he asked you what happened you lied and said that it was the end result of an overzealous girlfriend. From hence forth you were known as nympho, the boy who liked his ass bit during sex." I paused to admire my work, "That sufficient? Oh wise and mighty nympho?"

You could practically hear his blush, "Okay, I guess you could be-"

"And when the wise and mighty nympho came back from his deployment in Korea he approached his loving, caring, and even wiser sister to inquire as to what the symptoms of genital herpes was-"

"OKAY. MAX. I BELIEVE YOU!" He shouted through the receiver. I laughed wholeheartedly. The memories of Cole came flooding back, full force. The bashful Dugen. Completely raunchy when he's with his brothers and so easy to embarrass when he wasn't. The second most defensive brother, behind Devin, and the most romantic. Not that we, as the Dugen-Fuller clan, didn't scare off any and all potential suitors. Oh, Cole, how could I have forgotten about you? As I recalled all of my lost memories I noticed the silence. I shushed my rambling thoughts as I recognized it, Cole was trying desperately not to cry. In the background I could hear the men from his platoon cooing at him. He turned and yelled, "Sorry that my sister, who I thought was dead, just called me and sorry that I'm a little emotional!" That silenced the men instantaneously.

I chuckled, "Come on, cut them some slack. I would've done the same thing had I saw you blubbering over the phone." He let out a half-laugh, half-sob, that ripped my heart in two, "Hey, it's okay, I'm alive. Lost, but alive." I continued, almost in tears myself, "And if you start crying then what's to say that I won't start sobbing like an idiot?" I asked. Cole replied with some indecisive sound, a verbal shrug if you will, "Cole Nympho Dugen, you stop blubbering this instant. Your baby sis needs you."

That seemed to catch his attention, "What's wrong?" He asked, sniffling. Oh dear lord, that boy was going to be the emotional death of me.

"Well... I'm lost. I have no idea where I am, all I know is that it's on Lake Baikal. Wherever the hell that is." I said nonchalantly, still forcing down the tears. Fuck tears. Fuck emotions.

The sound of rustling papers resonated through the phone, "Jesus Christ, you little shit." He laughed, "You come back to life, damn diva, and you just happen to land in the Soviet Union? With your luck I'm surprised you didn't die years ago."

I knew it! "I figured as much. The people I've talked to had pretty thick accents." I lamented, "So... When can you come and get me?"

Cole laughed, "And you automatically assume that I can come and get you? You're such a brat."

"Guilty." I admitted. No use denying it now.

He laughed again, "I'm actually supposed to be on medical leave and I'm buddies with the pilot that's flying the plane back to the states. I'll ask him to make a quick detour to Siberia."

So he wasn't deployed to Norfolk or anything, that could mean one of many things, "We at war?" I asked.

"Yup."

"World War III?"

He barked out a laugh "Oh God no. Your efforts back in 1962 were not in vain. We're at war with North Vietnam."

Well that was news to me, "Since when?"

"1965? How long have you been under your Russian rock?" He joked.

Okay. Breathe Max, breathe. You've been down for the count. Now you've got to speak words, SPEAK WORDS, DAMMIT! "Yeah," I laughed, "no clue. What year is it, exactly?"

"1967."

To say that I started to freak is a gross understatement. I was flipping literal shit. Last I knew it was 1962 and our biggest threat was Russia. Now it's only five years later and we're at war with fucking Vietnam? I hadn't even heard of Vietnam! Not only that, I was smack dab in the middle of hostile territory without a freaking clue of what was going on, stuck in the middle of a storm! Yeah. No cause for alarm. Just a five year lapse, no big deal!

I let out a shaky/hysterical laugh, "1967. Holy fucking shit."

"What?"

"Oh it's nothing. Just, last I knew, it was 1962 and I had sand in my ass crack. No biggie." I said, hysterically. I think it's safe to say that I was a little hysteric.

Brief pause, "What?!" Cole shouted, "Okay, give me your coordinates and I'll be there as soon as I can."

In a shaky voice I repeated what Peter had told me. It would be an hour or so before Cole found me. In the meantime I started crying. Five years. I had been out of commission for five whole years. Yet, I hadn't changed a bit. Literally. Same boobless, lanky, stringy haired tomboy from New Mexico. I looked at my reflection in the glass of the gas station. Tears cascaded down my cheeks at a constant rate, cheeks that had reddened significantly. Snot started dripping from my nose and I tried to wipe it away. I couldn't exactly tell if I had succeeded or not with all the rain, but my attention had been averted by something even weirder than me being alive and five years in the future.

My eyes.

They were pure yellow. I tried to dispel whatever energy I had charged up inside of me to find that I had none. I didn't feel weak, so I have no idea what was causing the colour change. With closer inspection, I saw my yellow eyes flash a bright blue. That startled me. It was more turquoise than blue, but still. I watched my eyes carefully to see a stem of turquoise reach across my eyes before they flashed blue again. It was like lightning. A nervous smile formed on my tear and snot ridden face. At least one thing remained constant in the past five years. I brought my left hand back and put it through the glass. Shards of glass stuck out from my knuckles to my elbow. As I flexed my hand several times I watched the shards being pushed out of the bloody wounds they had formed. Even if the world was on fire, one thing was for certain:

I'm still Synergy. That much would never change.


	2. Chapter 2

**Eternal Synergy**

"_Try as you will, you cannot annihilate the eternal relic of the human heart, love._" - Victor Hugo

* * *

Sadly, as we flew over the Atlantic, and the oh-so-fancy Europe, Cole and I sat in silence. It's not like that's the way we wanted it. Neither of us had much to say. When he found me I was curled up in a small ball up against the cold concrete of the gas station and I wasn't in the mood for talkin'. I was still crying a bit but it had stopped raining. So that was a plus. Cole didn't even say anything when he saw me. He just picked me up bridal style and carried me onto the aircraft. Typical Dugen silence when dealing with crying women. Not that I could complain, I'm glad Cole came and got me, even if I couldn't bitch and moan to him like I could with Devin or Collin.

Cole dealt with me the only way he knew how. Which was perfectly okay in my book. His left arm was wrapped around my shoulders in a protective gesture. I'm thankful, don't get me wrong, but God were my brothers big. He was practically engulfing me with those rippling pectorals alone. Still, even though he was 6'2" and about 250 lbs of pure muscle, his presence soothed me when it should've put me on edge. What can I say, you learned to love the huge gingers. The scruffy red hair, the even scruffier stubble, the cheeky grin, the cerulean eyes; all indications that I was close to home. Close to Collin, Cole, Devin, and even Lucas. Thinking of the boys calmed me down quite a bit. I relaxed my head onto Cole's massive shoulder for the duration of our flight.

Well, our first one. When we landed in Norfolk we were supposed to board another plane to Albuquerque. That's besides the point.

For whatever reason, that's when I noticed Cole's left hand. It was wrapped up in gauze, a bit of blood seeped through where his ring and pinky finger should have been... I say should because, as far as I could tell, they weren't there... I swallowed past a lump forming in my throat.

'He did mention something about medical leave...' I pondered briefly before I confronted him, "Ummm... What's with the mummy wrappage?" I asked, pointing directly to the hand draped over my shoulder. He just looked at it and shrugged, "Okay, you did not just lose a ratty old sweater that grams got knitted for you for Christmas. You're missing some essential body parts! Emote!" I half-yelled, giving him a pretty nasty and well rehearsed stink eye.

First off, he shrugged, again. Seriously?! Fingers, FINGERS WERE MISSING. "Some commie shot them off." He lamented. Honestly, he didn't look bothered in the slightest that he was missing two freaking fingers!

"You are way too nonchalant about this whole ordeal to be sane. Just, fyi." I said, crossing my arms across my chest.

Then, unexpectedly, Cole was laughing. I looked up at him with disbelief/confusion. I wasn't quite sure which it was. All I know is, my face probably looked real funny. Not that it the most attractive thing to look at to start with. I continued to look at him as such until fear started to seep into me... What if he WAS insane? He had been fighting a war for some time, perhaps the gunshots and blood had messed with his head. And, more than that, I could have quite possibly been stuck on a small aircraft with a raving lunatic.

Eventually he looked down at my weirdly contorted face and barked out one last laugh, "Sorry! It's just the girl that just came back from the dead is questioning my sanity. I'm starting to think that maybe the girl's right!" He said in order to put me at ease.

Yeah, it didn't work. He was fully admitting his madness. Yeah. I did not feel any better about my situation. If anything I felt a tad worse. I started to scoot away from him. He saw me retreating and pulled me back, giving me a fierce noogie while he trapped me in a headlock.

"Get off of me you big lug!" I tried to say. I couldn't really audit well, Cole was choking me. I have no idea what it is I actually said. I gagged and tapped his arm rapidly, "Uncle, uncle!"

He let out a laugh and released me. For the next thirty seconds every breath I drew was moderately laboured. I put my hand to my throat and coughed. Damn him. Let the record show that I enjoyed breathing. Oxygen is a mighty fine thing, I'll let you know!

I glared up at him once I had filled my lungs enough times, "Asshole." I mumbled.

Cole snickered, "Sorry. Forgot how flimsy you chickitas are." He said with a taunting look.

"Flimsy?!" I gawked, "The dire need of oxygen makes me flimsy?!" I continued to sputter whilst smacking several times.

The brute did not look sorry in the least. That's Cole for you. Well... That's the entire Dugen clan for you. It's funny, how many personality traits we all shared. Loyalty, honesty, sincerity, stubbornness, and an intense feeling of duty rooted deep in our bones. We did not wait idly by when there were damsels to save and wars to fight. At least, we didn't without getting a firm scolding from the current Patriarch of the family. That being my dad at the time. And what a mighty Patriarch he was. Fathering five hearty sons, though the fifth did not have a chance to live a long a fruitful life.

Gabe... Sweet, sweet, Gabe. God I hated it when my thoughts drifted to that adorable blue eyed demon. Something I've never mentioned; he's my twin. Well, was. Was my twin. My younger twin of three hours. The kid always was a pain in the ass. Made our little flower of a mother go through labor for three freaking hours. No match to my impressive eight hours, but still. He was my own personal pain in the butt. The little brother I unknowingly led to Death's door. Had I known that that damn field had been used to test nuclear weapons I never would have taken him there. Never. Guess I was just a real piss poor sister.

As if knowing that I was mentally self-loathing, Cole pulled my head towards his shoulder and ran his fingers through my inky locks. I let out a sigh, "I'm fine." I lied, cool as a cucumber. Another thing I inherited from the Dugen blood. The art of "bottling it up". Never burdening others with your troubles. A motto to live and die by. I sighed again. God I was depressing myself. I closed my eyes and quickly fell asleep.

A couple of hours later I snored myself awake. If you don't know what that means, then you're lucky. You don't make some loud snorting noise in your sleep that, effectively, wakes you right the hell up. Upon making such a God awful noise, Cole looked at me like that one time I rode the neighbours goat around the county fair. The guy got first place for showmanship, that's for sure.

To Cole's skeptical/amused face, I grimaced, "If I could control it, I would. But I can't, so I won't!" I stated with a full serving of sass, crossing my arms, huffing and puffing like Puff the Magic Dragon (God I need to think of new jokes). And I was, literally, just as high! If you do not understand my brilliant play on words right now, the door's over there. Don't let it hit you on the way out.

And, more than the snorting, we were steadily declining. The pilot was even yelling at us from the cockpit, "'Bout ready to touchdown, buckle up, Gunny!"

Gunny is short for Gunnery Sergeant, just so you know. Did you think that I'd be so lucky to have asked for Petty Officer Dugen, meaning Lucas, and just happened to get a different Dugen P.O.? Did you not read the first part of my story? Luck is not exactly my forte. Nor has it been nor has it ever. I only get my way through hard work and a heavy pair of balls. It's not so bad, until a certain Sebastian Shaw puts you on the fast track of demise. But, he's dead. No need to worry about him.

Back to us landing! Actually, skip that. Let's jump ahead to the car ride back to the Dugen-Fuller residence. I had traded my Kevlar suit for a ratty pair of jeans, a tank top, and Cole's Naval jacket. Rather not show up at my front door as the carnie. Even though I had exchanged carnie for hobo. Oh well, what can you do. Diddly squat, that's what. So, there I was, sitting in the passenger seat next to Cole, smoking a cigarette to take the edge off. Cole's response to my revival was still fresh in my mind. No telling how the rest of them would take it. Maybe that's what was freaking me out the most. Uncertainty. Fuck nerves. They never've done me any good.

Eventually... We pulled into the driveway of our old house. Cole was currently living with a couple of buddies in Bethesda but each of the army boys made it a habit of returning to where it all started first. So, all of the brothers would be there to meet them. Just tradition, I guess. A tradition I was seriously hating at that point. Cole had to be the goody goody and call ahead. Jerk. I didn't need all of them there. All of that confrontation? Not something I was usually able to deal with with tact and poise. Now that I think about it? I had never been tactful or whatever would've required me to behave with poise because I don't think poiseful is a word.

With a squeeze to my hand, I was brought back to my rapidly approaching reality. I inhaled and exhaled multiple times. I was by no means ready for the inevitable confrontation but I was ready to face it. I gave Cole an affirmative nod and exited the car. I quickly ran to his side and allowed him to wrap his arm around my shoulder, again. He led us to the front door and gave me a second or two to collect myself. I concentrated on my breathing for a few more seconds before trying the door knob. Unlocked, as always.

The entryway was empty. Thank God. I peered in in hopes to see into the den, no luck. I looked back to the driveway to see if anyone was, indeed, home. Dad's pickup, Lucas' mustang, Devin's impala, and a car I didn't recognize. I assumed it was Collin's or my mom's. I didn't dwell on it. I didn't have the emotional stability to dwell on much.

"YO." Cole yelled.

"YO!" Several men replied. Then the sound of running could be heard overhead. I ducked my head down and hoped that they would, one, not recognize me or, two, believe me at point face. I nervously fixated on my nails just as the boys bounded down the stairs.

Oh God... I didn't know if I could this. My heart was racing and my palms were sweaty... What if they lashed out? What if they didn't believe me? What if-

"Cole, you're not supposed to bring the rift raft hookers home." One of the brothers teased. I looked up. The jokester Collin was smirking as he straddled the railing.

I know I was nervous before, but that stirred the beast within me to roar. I approached the youngest red head with an accusatory jab to the throat. Collin gagged. Serves him right!

Sidetracked, sorry, "Aw, hell no. I did not _freak the fuck out_ from when we landed to now to have you call me a Vietnamese hooker!" I yelled, jabbing my brother several times in the chest.

Collin started to roll his eyes when he suddenly trained them on my face, "The hell...?" He muttered, "Who are you to talk to me like that? You're in my house, Miss, don't forget that." He glared.

I glared right back, "Yeah, well, it's my house too, ginger."

Collin swung his leg over the railing and landed right in front of me, "My daddy told me to be polite to wimmin, Miss, so I'm going to politely ask you how this is your fucking house?" He asked with a slight inclination as to who I was... Am... I'm still me.

I exhaled an angry breath, "Being born Maxine Edith Dugen-Fuller makes this my fucking house." I clarified, crossing my arms and awaited the assault of questions.

To my left I could feel Devin's rage, to my right was nothing but quizzical curiosity. Lucas grabbed my shoulders and forced me to face him. I couldn't look him in the eye. Where Devin was nothing but pent up aggression and violence, Lucas was logical and understanding. Complete opposites. Just like comparing Cole and Collin. Cole was naturally calm and trusting where Collin was devious and mischievous. As a collective unit they complimented each other.

"Max?" Lucas whispered with a genuine smile on his freckled face.

I was about ready to nod my response when a strong hand shoved me face first into the wall in front of me. I looked to said hand as it gripped the fabric on my shoulder. Scabbed knuckles. Devin had succumbed to his anger, "Give me an excuse not to break your neck right now." He seethed angrily in my ear. God he was creepy sometimes.

"Devin, let her go! It's really Max!" Cole tried to deflate the most volatile brother from the doorway.

After some grunting and ripping of clothing, my clothing, Devin was forcibly removed from me by Collin and Lucas. He was thrashing against their grip, intent on causing me physical harm, "That's not Max! She's dead! SHE'S DEAD!" He yelled, saliva spewing from his clenched jaw.

Cole approached him and walloped him in the gut, "Listen to her!" He commanded.

The animal known as Devin didn't look happy, not that he ever did, but he settled down considerably. Next to him his brothers slackened their grips. Devin shoved them the rest of the way off, "Get off me." He sneered. Crossing his bulging biceps and glaring at me, "Alright. The bitch gets to explain."

I rolled my eyes, "Why thank you, princess." I said sarcastically, almost inciting another rage from him, "Not that I can even begin to explain. The only thing I can do is prove to you that I'm genuine." I exhaled, preparing to call forth 17 years of knowledge. I shook out my hands and tried to remember something that only Kevin and I shared, "Let's see... Well... You're a flaming homosexual, for one." I offered.

"Easily could've found out from one of my boyfriends." He returned with a light blush forming underneath those freckles of his.

I sighed. Touche. The next thing I was about to say was not something I wanted to throw out in front of the brothers. I did not have a choice at that moment, "Your funeral..." I mumbled, clearing my throat and ready spew his deepest darkest secret, "Your first boyfriend and sexual relation was with Assistant Coach Michael Hennrik."

All around us, near identical blue eyes turned to look at Devin with jaws dropped. The Assistant Football Coach that led them to victory many a games was gay?! Shocker!

"Devin!" Collin sputtered, "Mikey? Really?!"

The once angry now suddenly bashful Dugen shrugged, "He was hot."

Cole made a disgusted face, "I do not want to hear about that!" He proclaimed, sticking his fingers in his ears.

"And didn't you say something about a really tight-" I started to say before getting cut off by Devin.

"MAX. SHUT UP. I GET IT." He yelled, running up to me and clasping a hand around my fairly loud mouth, "I believe you." He said with a relieved smile gracing his usually angry face. He removed his hand and wrapped me up tight in a loving embrace. The others came towards us as well, moving to envelope us in a commonly occurring group hug.

Then a booming voice interrupted our happy reunion, "I don't."

You could hear each and every one of us swallow nervously. I had won the battle but was soon faced with the rest of the war. Our father. We turned to the top of the stairs where Timothy Dugen glowered at us. Slowly and with an undeniable amount of fear emanating from him he descended the stairs. We watched with trepidation as he step moaned under his weight.

If you thought my brothers sounded big... The size of my father would terrify you.

Standing at 6'5", weighing in at nearly 400 lbs, and a width that had to turn to fit through doorways, Timothy Dugen was the largest Dugen to date. His traditional bowler hat was tugged down to cover his eyebrows and a cigar was balanced expertly beneath his overly massive moustache. Usually jolly and full of laughter, my father knew how to intimidate when he needed to. Maybe that's why he had served in two wars without so much as a scratch.

As dad came to the last few steps, my brothers backed away with their tails between their legs. I looked towards my feet. I never had much of a backbone where dad was concerned, "Hey, dad." I mumbled.

He stopped right in front of me. His shadow would've provided excellent shade on a hot day, "Look at me when you're talking to me." He ordered, arms crossed.

Hesitantly, I obeyed, "Yessir."

"Better." He offered as he circled me. His watermelon of a hand scratched at his chin, "Tiny enough to be my daughter." He mumbled, "But way to complacent."

I guffawed, "Asshat! At least I have both of my procreation amenities!" I said sarcastically before I even realised that I had said it. I smacked my forehead dramatically. Max, do you ever know when to shut your trap? No. Of course not. That's not in the job description.

And while I expected a slap to the head, I got a roar of laughter, "Now that's something Max would say."

"Good thing I'm Max, then." I countered.

"You're who?"

We all turned to the scared voice that chirped from the doorway. A small woman that barely reached my nose stood with her weight in groceries dangling from her petite frame... A woman with my straight black hair and wide chocolate brown eyes.

I gave her a small wave, sadness creasing my brow, "Hey, ma."

And where the males of the family were skeptical to my return, Alexandra Fuller was nothing if not accepting. She dropped her horde of dairy and vegetables to the ground and ran at me. Her small arms wrapped around my middle and squeezed for all that they were worth. She buried her face into my neck and soaked my hair with her salty tears. Oh God... The tears... Not the tears! Whenever she cried I wasn't far behind her. In that instance I was not even centimetres behind. I was blubbering seconds later. And that would eventually lead to us kneeling to the floor in a pool of our tears. And we wouldn't stop until we could swim, or even drown, in them.

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**Author's Note: TADA. GOD. About 1,500 words in and I got stuck. Stayed stuck. And refused to touch this baby. I'm sorry, truthfully and utterly sorry. But I have so much to say! AAAHHHHHH! WE'RE BACK! I hope you're not too mad at me for getting rid of _Revived Synergy_ but I hated it. Haaaated it. But I love all of you and I still ha- okay. I had all of your reviews. I saved them in a word document on my computer that just finished dying today. Sorry! And I'm so sorry for this long Author's Note!**

**OWLSCRATCH! I have a review started for that last chapter of yours but, may I say, not fair. NOT FAIR. Ugh. You kill me. And thank you for noticing the quote thing. I work my butt off to find quotes that have 'spark', 'lightning', 'thunder', 'storm', 'electric', or 'electricity' in it. Now I'm searching for 'eternal', 'immortal'... you know what, I'll let you be surprised.**

**Anyways, I'm mostly making this extensive Author's Note for the last Guest reviewer of _Perfect Synergy_! They made a point to mention that they were sad about Max not bonding with Erik. I was sad about it too, don't worry. As Max's mouthpiece I wanted them to be friends. But then there is the whole issue of her turning into a Sue. Which, by the way, is not Max at all. I plugged her into a Sue test and guess where she scored? -10. SHE IS SO NOT A SUE AND I'M SO HAPPY. GAH. LOVE MAX. FOREVER. Sorry, sidetracked. So, if you read this, I hope you understand my reasoning and I'm totally on your page there. I want everyone to love Max but she's going to butt heads with some people!**

**Speaking of people... know how I like to throw in canon characters? Reread Chapter One and catch the ones I've mentioned! Perhaps we'll see one of them merging with the story!**

**Hope you liked the brothers! You have now formerly met the family! If you want to see the pictures I have found (and edited) for the family (I have yet to find Momma Fuller), check my profile! Links provided! I especially suggest if you want to see dear old Max! And even Gabe! Expect a lot of him in _Eternal Synergy_!**

**I'm done, I swear! Read and Review!**

**xoxo, Momma Love**

**P.S. Author's Notes will not be as long in the future.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: No reviews for Chapter Two make me sad.**

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**Eternal Synergy**

"_I do think the heart can balance out the mind, if your heart is in a good place it can give you the strength to do the right thing and behave the right way and overcome the mind._" - Alexis Arguello

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Ah, to be home again after such a long time. Nothing else compares. I mean, how could it? How can you top wrestling with your ginormous brothers? Or miserably failing at helping your mother cook to a point where she sends you to your room? Or watching your brothers try to best your dad at any sort of drinking contest? Or even the mashed potatoes being flung at you and getting stuck in every open orifice on your face?

The answer is simple: it can't.

Before I left Saffron I hadn't been home since Easter. I wasn't allowed to leave for summer vacation since I was enrolled in summer school. That's another story; long as it may be and completely justifiable. So returning to the suburbs of New Mexico was somewhere up their with receiving the word of God. No more headmistresses, no more wrinkly old professors covered head to toe in liver spots, no more skirts that made my underwear rode up, and no more snooty bitches with their pompoms shoved to far up their cooches. It was just heavenly. I repeat: nothing else compares!

After I talked with my mom for awhile, telling her my firsthand experiences with the other mutants, and after all of the tears, we had dinner. Ma made my favourite: corn beef with cabbage, carrots, and potatoes. I was even allowed to have a Miller seeing as I was technically a few weeks shy of turning 22. It was great. Listening to my brothers tell stories of the pranks they pulled in their platoons was so nostalgic of the times dad would talk about World War II. I loved every second of it.

Besides the stories and my misadventures with the X-Men we all talked about how long I would be staying. I was planning to only be a week or two then I'd head up to New York and rejoin my fellow mutants. Honestly, I wanted to stay longer. But I had to know... Why was I back? According to Charles' calculations I'd be down for the count for awhile. Awhile meaning forever. I needed to know if this was going to happen again. If I was going to spontaneously vanish. Hopefully he'd be able to tell me. Fingers crossed guys!

Once dinner was over we all partook in the "Dugen Return From Combat" tradition. An intense game of chicken. We'd always go next door and borrow a handful of clunkers from Mr. Davis then we'd drive out back to the fields and barrel at each other one by one until a champion was declared. Devin and I usually exchanged the title between ourselves. But, that year, we had to relinquish it to the mighty Cole. It was weird, he almost never won. He won less often than Scott did.

Speaking of which, I asked about Scott, as to where he was and all that. I was shocked to find that he was at the Palace. Had been for years. More specifically, since the day after I died. They suggested that when I got up to New York that I should talk to Scott about what he found out. No specifics what-so-ever. Which was uncharacteristically cryptic of them. Usually they just said it how it was and let everyone else make their own assumptions. Yet they were purposefully keeping me in the dark. Which you could guess was more than irritating.

Greatly displeased with my lack of information, we moved onto other activities. Mostly darts and wrestling. Everyone was laughing and having a good time. Everyone except for me. You could say that I wasn't in the mood anymore. So, moderately frustrated, I bid my family goodnight and holed myself up in the guest bedroom until I fell asleep a few hours later.

The next two weeks were pretty much no different, with the addition of breakfast and lunch. Nothing seemed out of place and everyone was happy. Except something wasn't right. What? You knew this was coming. If everything was unicorns secreting rainbows and sunshine all the time this story would be very boring. Allow me to add some conflict to spice everything up.

It was my last night at my childhood home and it was a little past midnight. I had been restless all day, even a little agitated... Okay, a lot agitated. I snapped at Lucas for asking me about mutations and all that, I broke Devin's nose while we were wrestling and I'm pretty sure it was intentional, I wouldn't talk to Collin and I crudely made fun of Cole until my dad yelled at me to stop. For whatever reason I couldn't help it. There was this bad energy in the house all of a sudden and I'm pretty sure that's what made me so vicious. So I told you about that day. You can only imagine how that night went.

Tossing and turning, nightmares, talking it my sleep, sending sparks off in all directions, and other signs of duress. I had no idea why I couldn't calm down. Just... That damn energy wouldn't dissipate! It was almost like the night that Hank shot himself up with mutant heroine only I was more angry/violent than frightened. Like I said, almost. Sort of like I was ALMOST about to start electrocuting things when I couldn't get back to sleep after a pretty intense nightmare about Raven and Azazel having little purple children together.

The only logical solution, chill out. And chill out did I try. I tried taking a bath. I tried warm tea. I tried aromatherapy with Ma's candles. I even tried meditating. Nothing. Nothing was calming me down from my current state of mind. Eventually I gave up and forced myself to go to bed. How did I do that, you ask? Something that still remained in my repertoire of mutant abilities: exhaustion by overusing my powers. In other words I sent as much energy as I could into the street lights outside our house until I passed out. And it took quite a while to waste enough energy. Much longer than usual. In times previous it only took half a minute of constant wear and tear for the lights to turn off upstairs.

Eventually my plan worked. All was good in the world. If I tossed and turned, I couldn't remember it. If I fried the sheets, I couldn't remember that either. No... I couldn't remember anything except for the nightmare. A nightmare that still haunts me. It was of Gabe. More specifically it was of me leading Gabe to the field that housed the raw material for mutations. Radiation. And the nightmare just kept replaying over and over again. Me whispering to my twin brother near the break in the chain link fence behind our house. Me coaxing him towards his death. God... Why? Why then? When I was just one little nudge away from punching someone in the face.

I don't know. But when the dream switched to a few months later when Gabe literally started to disappear and then played over and over and over until my body couldn't take it anymore. I woke up, panting. My body was drenched in sweat even though I had kicked my covers to the floor and the fact that the open window was blowing a cold breeze into the room. I sat up, pressing my palms into my eyes, "Ugh, my head." I groaned, meaning the throbbing headache.

"Yeah. The smoke will do that to ya."

My eyes popped open at the sound of an unknown voice... In my room. A shadow moved near my window and I threw myself out of bed. Due to the imminent threat I felt my own energy welling inside of me. Sparks jumped off my skin, skin that glowed with an almost cyan hue. My natural light lit up the room slightly, but not enough to see the intruders face.

Whoever they were, they snickered, "Wow. So you actually do glow."

The voice was low. Not low like my dad's, more low like Collin's. The intruder was young, and male. My guess... I had no clue. No inkling of a thought as to who he was.

"Who are you." I snarled. My hands fisted at my sides, ready to strike if need be.

Apparently I told a pretty funny joke. He was laughing again, "I'm hurt."

I rolled my eyes, "You think I give a flying tuck about your precious little feelings?" I asked, "Now I suggest getting out of my room before things get ugly. And by things I mean your face. Because I'm going to beat the snot out of you."

He snickered again, "I'd like to see you try." He countered.

Suddenly a black smoke emerged from the light peering through the window, "What the..." Was all I managed before the smoke engulfed me whole.

I held my arms up in defense. But I wasn't attacked... At least I wasn't physically. I blinked through the smoke and when it dissipated I was met with... Oh God.

All around me, everything was on fire. I recognized my surroundings as Westchester. Bodies lined the streets, bloodied and broken, cars had been abandoned, bullet holes riddled windows and cement, everything was in disarray. Nothing, and I mean nothing was left standing, '_No... Charles_!' I thought before running down the stretch of road.

It took all that I had not to become physically ill to the sight around me. Little kids, ranging from toddlers to teenagers, were plugged full of steel. Who had the heart to murder such innocent children? And why? How were children threatening in the least? I couldn't think about that, I had to get to the Palace. Fast. I picked up my pace and eventually I made it...

"No..." I muttered, tears brewing in my eyes. Even the Palace was left in shambles. Windows were smashed out and the roof had caved in.

Without a second thought I ran towards it. I burst through the front door to find blood spattered everywhere. It was... It was awful. Broken, charred, furniture littered the entry way. If Charles was alive he wouldn't... No. No, I couldn't think like that. Maybe... Maybe they just all left. That had to be it.

I pushed aside the door into the parlour and gasped. Amidst the burned remains of Charles' book there was a tipped over wheelchair covered in blood. Chess pieces were strewn all about the small room. And, in the center of it all, was Charles... In a pool of crimson. I ran to him, searching for a pulse. There was nothing. Nothing at all. He was dead. Charles was...

No, no! It wasn't possible. He couldn't be... I ran into the kitchen and was forced into an even worse sight. At the breakfast table sat Sean and Moira, one across from the other, heads tipped back, red curls and brunette locks dangling... Throats slit and blood soaking their beautiful... No... The white shirt underneath his black suit... And... Oh God... Her white wedding dress. They had just been married and I... I couldn't do it. Tears were pouring from my eyes, blurring my vision, but I had to keep going. If Hank was...

I shoved those thoughts from my mind and proceeded into the dining room where Azazel and Angel were pinned dead to the wall. Azazel's tail had been cut off and used to restrain him while the wings on Angel's back had been literally carved out. Not to mention the blood dropping down her jaw... They had cut out her tongue. It was too much to take. I moved to the drawing room... Cole and Lucas were slumped against the wall, their heads turned clear round, necks broken, blue eyes wide with fear, eyes glazed over in death.

'They couldn't all be dead!' I insisted, running into the gym. No... Collin and Alex... Two people I had once considered to be so similar... In Collin's hand was a gun, in Alex's head was a bullet. And Collin was covered head to toe with severe burns they... They killed each other...

I ran to Charles' lab, Erik was half in; half out of the window, glass cutting straight through his body. Cast-off was sprayed all over the beakers and equipment. Everything... Everything was covered in blood. How did all of this happen?! And still... It would get worse. In the den my parents were slumped in the corner, my mother was wrapped in my dad's arms, and the were riddled with bullets. My dad's bowler hat had fallen to the floor... Not much was left of it. The hat that survived a World War.

Disgusted by it all I ran for a window. I unlatched it and emptied the contents of my stomach, sobbing all the while. I lifted my head when I saw something reflective. Out on the back patio I could see Scott, small little Scott, with daggers through his eyes, his wrists and ankles pinned down to the brick, and Devin... His head cut clear off, though it was nowhere I could see, "No, no..." I whispered before running upstairs.

I looked left, I looked right, only Hank and Raven remained. I just... I didn't know where they'd be. I kicked in Raven's door... She was face down on her bed and I... I'm not even going to say what they did to her... It's too awful. Too awful... I ran down the hall to Hank's lab, tears flowing freely... And screamed.

"NOOOOOOO!"

In a cage in the middle of the floor, impaled by numbers spikes and spears, was a huge mass of blue fur, turned purple from all of the blood... Hank... I ran at him and broke each implement enough to pull him out. Once freed from his cage I noticed that his fur was more tamed... They had cut it. Whoever had done all of those horrible deeds even stooped so low as to cut his beautiful fur.

I ran my fingers down his cheek, "Oh Hank..." I sobbed, wrapping myself around him and pressing my forehead against his, "How could they do this to you...? To everyone I love...?" Everyone... Everyone was gone. Dead and bloodied.

Or so I thought.

"Max..." A voice croaked. My eyes opened wide and looked around. It wasn't Hank, he was clearly gone. I couldn't feel any life in him, no energy, none. I looked up to see black smoke billowing out of an open door. A door I didn't remember. Carefully and cautiously I laid Hank out flat and stood. With trepidation I tiptoed towards the door, coughing for whatever reason.

I pushed open the door the rest of the way open to see... No. It couldn't be... But it was. It was Gabe. Just as he looked when he died all those years ago. He was lying down face up, his blue eyes open wide and full of pain. Yet there was nothing obviously wrong with him except for the smoke he was coughing up. I rushed to his side anyway, "Gabe, Gabe, tell me what's wrong." I pled.

With effort, he reached a shaky hand up towards my face. He grabbed hold of the back of my neck and pulled me towards him. Once his lips were right next to my ear he whispered, "You killed me."

Shocked, I pulled away from my little brother. Only... He wasn't my little brother anymore. Beneath me was a young man with the same black hair and the same bright blue eyes. He looked like Gabe in every sense. Even to the coy smile playing at his lips. Like he had done something absolutely devious... Something Gabe would do.

Then, in a voice that struck me as being eerily familiar, he said, "Do you know who I am now?"

With that I was surrounded by black smoke once more. I squeezed my eyelids shut and brought up my hand to protect my vision. Upon opening my eyes I found myself back at home. No fire, no blood, no intruder, nothing. But now I knew who he was. The son of a bitch that put me through all of that. Someone who vanished in a puff of black smoke. Someone I thought to be dead. Someone I thought about day in and day out. Someone I loved...

"Gabe..."

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**Author's Note: Seriously... no reviews for Chapter Two... I'm very sad. Very sad. I love you all, you're all fantastic. Thank you for reading. Read and review. Sorry for creepy chapter. Hope you like my villain insert. Back to the Palace next chapter. I hope. Maybe. Sorry, I'm just pretty sad. None of my stories are getting any feedback. It's kind of deterring. Oh well, I'll get over it. Enjoy. - Momma Love**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Love me, two chapters - two days, but this is pure filler. No more into the mysterious plot twist of Chapter Three (sorry Rose! All in due time!) but I will tell you that there will be an even bigger plot twist down the road. GET STOKED. MY STORIES ARE BEST VIEWED AT 1/2 PAGE! xoxo, Momma Love  
**

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**Eternal Synergy**

"_There were night when the wind, so inviting in the promise of flight and freedom, made one's spirit soar._" - Tony Jay

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I didn't tell my family about my run in with Gabe. Or a guy pretending to be my dead brother. I couldn't be a hundred percent sure it was him, therefor I couldn't tell them. I mean he died ten years prior, right? And the only reason I had to believe otherwise was some weird dream like trance I was in. Seeing as I never saw my intruders face I'd have a long way to go before I made any assumptions. First off I'd ask Charles. The guy in my dream was definitely a mutant. And, again, that did not mean it was Gabe. Probably just some lackey of Erik that needed to not half ass his homework. Or just needed to stop listening to that drama queen.

So, with everything about my brother kept bottled up inside, in a large van, the family drove me to the airport. We played a pretty raunchy game of "Would You Rather", but my heart wasn't in it. I just stared out the window and thought about everything. Rekindling the family flames, running miles through the rain in Russia, nearly pissing my pants when dad put on a bear pelt and fucking growled in my face like a bear, and the dream. What was that smoke? I'd never met anyone with a mutation quite like it. An illusionist, certainly, but it wasn't in my head. You couldn't get in my head without me feeling it and forcing you out.

"What was it?" I whispered to myself as I waved goodbye to the Dugen's and my momma Fuller. I... I didn't even remember most of the trip. I was too caught up in my own devices to notice much else.

Now the dweeb and the old lady I was sandwiched in between? Those I paid attention to. The geeky kid was surely going to be checking me out the entire flight and I couldn't be sure about the grandma. You know how old people are; they're either really nice or really bitter. And this old lady was knitting. I wasn't going to take a chance that she was a nasty witch and have her stab my jugular. I liked my blood inside of me, thank you. It's nice and warm and it keeps me, ya know, _alive_.

With my eyes constantly flitting back and forth from the two I couldn't settle down enough to take a nap. Meaning that the five hours were to go by super slow. Not so slow with granny chattering away. She was regaling tales of her hometown of Point Pleasant, West Virginia where a man-sized bird seemed to perch. Mothman they called him and he could've been a mutant. But by his description I'd call him a hallucination. So granny wasn't cavity inducing sweet or even rancid/sour. Just nuts. Intriguing.

The nerdy boy next to me also proved my first impressions wrong. I thought he was going to be enjoying my booblessness to their full potential. Instead he sifted through a People magazine. Upon further investigation I noticed that his eyes quickly glanced over hot swimsuit babes and lingered ever slightly on sun-tanned hunks. Wow. My first impressions of other people suck. I wonder what they thought I looked like...

I wore a pair of distressed dark blue jeans, ripped and torn from years of no-use then shoving my butt back into them so suddenly, underneath Lucas' military jacket was a brown knit sweater. Beneath that was a traditional wife beater and then my usual ace bandages followed the tank. Wrapping my chest had become slightly more difficult. I don't know if it was the fact that they weren't used for such a long time and they just don't stretch as much or if I grabbed a shorter one because there were not as many layers protecting my chest as there used to be.

The only thing that was left of my apparel was a paperboy hat. I probably just looked like the army brat that I am to those around me... Or a butch lesbian. I've been accused of strictly liking women several times during my teen years. Probably because I dressed like a guy. That is if they even assumed I was a girl. I often was mistaken for someone harbouring an offensive instrument between my legs.

Still, rude. But I digress. People could assume whatever they wanted to about me. I don't care.

For the rest of the flight I settled for kicking my legs like a three year old and reading the magazine the possibly gay nerd had in front of him. Nothing interesting, really. So you could say that I was more than happy to get the hell off that flight... So I did. I had completely forgotten about my transpiration capabilities. I hadn't even used my powers much since I wandered back home. Call me a chicken, I was genuinely scared that I'd evaporate again.

I decided to take a chance. I grabbed my duffel and got up to walk towards the back of the plane, explaining to the stewardess that I was stretching my legs. She didn't look like she believed me but left me alone. Then, once I was in the clear, as quick as I could, I flattened myself against a wall and let the electricity flow. I completely converted into the substance and used the metal of the plane as my conductive path. A second later I was inside of the plane itself, sparks in the wiring signaled my arrival. Another second later and I was outside. One last second passed and I pushed myself away from the metal contraption. I was without inhibitions, tumbling through the air.

God I felt free. For the first time in hours I wasn't jumpy or antsy at all. I was completely liberated. I didn't even care that I was falling towards the Earth at a breakneck speed. My eyes were shut and my arms were spread wide. Free like a freaking bird. I turned to face the ground. I still had a big enough distance from it not to worry.

That's when I dove through a puffy white cloud and was completely drenched. A wholesome laugh escaped me and, using my energy, I propelled towards the countryside beneath me. Had to air myself out. Once successfully dry I concentrated on the Palace and through the sky I soared.

"YAAAHOOOOOOOOO!" I yelled as I was shot through the air at the speed of light. Then I blurted out something mixed between 'fuck' and 'shit' when I came to dodging a flock of Canadian geese. Guess I was closer to the ground than I thought. The birds squawked and made all sorts of God awful noises when I broke their line, "Sorry!" I called behind me.

I don't think they forgave me. Not that I really cared. I was just being polite. Imagine me, being polite. It happens... Rarely. But it happens. Especially when I'm outrageously happy. Like how I was when I was flying. Even while I weaved past skyscrapers when I dipped down lower in the air. I was nearing my destination. And I wished desperately that it didn't have to end. But there always comes a time where good things came to pass.

And for new things to begin. I plummeted towards the massive lawn of a place I temporarily called home. I rolled into my landing, leaving me kneeling with my large duffel in tow. You can only imagine how I felt as I stood. Nervous. And cold as fuck. God New York was freaking chilly in September. I pulled my jacket together and buttoned it, worrying all the while. The cold weather did not help my nerves, at all. I mean, what if they didn't believe me? My own family took quite a bit of convincing and I was about to attempt to explain my current situation to a bunch of skeptical mutants who all happened to know someone who could change into whoever they wished. Honestly? I just didn't have the energy. From all the family shit to the Gabe shit, I was all tuckered out. I had to think... How could I convince them quickly and painlessly?

'_You could start by coming inside, old friend_.'

Not having a voice in the back of my head for two weeks straight made me extremely insusceptible to it. My eyes opened wide and I scanned the windows in front of me. No sign of Charles so I simply brought my hand up towards the Palace, middle finger bared. That hand did not falter even as I walked down the gravel walkway, bringing that voice to a low chuckle at the back of my conscious mind.

Finally, after making it to the large oak door, I brought my offensive gesture down, replacing it with a fist. I turned my hand so as to rasp at the beautiful door. Hopefully I had knocked at an ample volume for someone to hear. Sure enough I could hear someone descending the staircase. As the door creaked open, I wondered who would come to greet me.

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**Author's Note: Sorry short chapter is short. It happens. Especially in the _Synergy_ saga. Yes. I said saga. Three more sequels people. Read and Review, sorry I was so depressed at the end of last chapter. It happens. I'm writer. _Get over it_. LOVE YOU ALL, MY DARLING PUMPKINS. - xoxo, Momma Love**


	5. Chapter 5

**Eternal Synergy**

"_A man must be willing to die for justice. Death is an inescapable reality and men die daily, but good deeds live forever_." - Jesse Jackson

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Remember how I said that my first impressions of people are just awful? Horrible even? And it's true. I can truthfully say that it is a flaw of mine that I'd struggle with for my entire life. The only thing I could think of that was worse was my first impression onto others. That was just horrendous. Completely and utterly catastrophic. Example one: when I was greeted at the front door of the Palace by someone I did not recognize. The first thing out of my mouth was,

"Who the fuck are you?"

In front of me a very graceful redhead stood half shielded by the obstacle that had once separated us. Her emerald green eyes stared at me quizzically, her shapely lips cast downwards in a slight and subtle frown. By the look on her face she was not going to let me in. But by some wicked twist of fate she looked down at me and smiled.

Now that was confusing, "They always said you had an..." She paused, tapping at her chin, "abrasive personality." She said with a calming flash of her perfect white teeth.

I nodded, "That I do. Max Dugen-Fuller." I offered with an extended hand.

The redhead completely bypassed my friendly appendage and went right in for the hug. Her long limbs wrapped around me affectionately... Like she knew me. It was really strange. I'd never met the broad, to my knowledge, and she was embracing me like we'd been old friends for a... really... long... time...

"Okay." I protested, moving my hands to her waist, "Time to let gooooo." I sang. I started to push her away, she locked her wrists. Well, cutie, two could play at that game. I sent a pulse of electricity to my fingertips. The girl yipped and backed off, smiling.

She tucked a fiery lock behind her almost waif-like ear and giggled a bit, "Sorry. They also mentioned that you weren't the touchy-feely sort. I just couldn't help myself, I mean... You're Synergy!" She let out a small laugh, "I've heard stories about you for years. I never imagined that I'd be able to meet you! In my defense, you _were_ dead..."

Well that escalated quickly. I stayed where I was; stunned. Rightfully so! First a hug, then a rain of praise? A shower, a storm, even! My mouth fluttered open and shut many a times before I actually managed to say something, "Wow. Um, yeah. Now I sort of feel like a bitch." I said while scratching the back of my head. We stood there silently for a moment when I suddenly blurted out, "I don't even know your name! Now I'm really a bitch."

"No, no, no!" She sputtered as it looked like she was moving in for another hug. I eased my weight back. She seemed to recall my distaste of touching and backed right off, her hands going to her hair instead of around me, "I, uh... I'm Jean Grey. Sorry for the whole... Yeah... It's just I've probably heard more about you than most." She explained, "Scott's my boyfriend."

I let out a low whistle. This Jean girl was one hot momma. Had to give it up to the squirt. Getting a girl like her. And of course, me being me, I had to vocalize my praise, "Da-yum. Man's got some good ol' Dugen swagger on him!" I joked with a typical devious Maxine smirk. Then a gust of wind came and blew right through me. I started rubbing at my arms, realizing I was still outside and freezing my somewhat little booty off, "It's great, knowing that my little bro has game, and all, but would you mind if we continued this conversation inside?" I asked, motioning towards the entryway behind her with my less-than-full noggin.

Her cascading, long, and luscious red hair flew all around us. Smacking me in the face as she whipped her head back and forth, looking behind her and gaping at me. I spit out the few hairs that got caught on my chapped lips, one still being stuck to her head, several times. Damn things were persistent. I finally gave up and pulled them off of my lip and tongue when she finally spoke, "Of course! Come on in!" My newest friend beamed with her arm extended, offering me admittance into a place I had once laid my weary head to rest. DON'T YOU CRY NO MORE. Sorry. Wayward Son is a favourite of mine. Ignore me.

With a mild trepidation, I hopped over the threshold and took a couple of steps forward past Jean Grey. My hiking boots made the same exact noise against the floors as they had when I first walked past that same hunk of wood, across those same floorboards. It was weird, being back. Five years had gone by and it was still the same. Same ornate partially carpeted entryway, same strong oak floors and maple wall panels, same ridiculously extravagant chandelier, same... Same everything. A smile threatened my smug little face and I inhaled deeply. The aroma of the potpourri Raven had placed in every room as a child wafted into my nostrils... Oh shit. Why'd you have to bring up the former bombshell blonde you royal dip shit?

Raven. Sweet, sweet, Raven. Ditzy, gracious, and a complete nincompoop. From what I saw on that beach she'd wouldn't be back home ever again. And I'll be a man and admit that I missed her already. There wasn't a bubbly 28 year old snuggling up to my side and complaining that my electrokinesis made her hair stick out on end. Did I say a different age once upon a time? Younger, perhaps? Yeah. I owed her a favour. She ruined that the other day. I'll tell you about it some other time. And she was even older by that point. You do the math...

But God how I missed her. I missed my sexy femme fatale with the intricate blue skin and the crimson hair. I missed the smiling yellow eyes, the naive comments, the barely chubby cherub cheeks, the chic couture, the weird jumping up and down thing she did when she was excited, and even those luscious lips. Who am I kidding. I _especially_ missed those pink beauties. And I'd only been without them for a few weeks. At least... That's how long it was for me. They were without me for years. I mean she... She was without me... Oh forget it. I'm a cocksmen. Nothing can stop those thoughts.

My words are taking away from the genuine sincerity of the realization that I was back. Back home. In my worn out military girlfriend attire I spun around in circles with my arms spread wide. No place like home, Dorothy. I turned to look to Jean who was just smiling at me. Honest to all that's good in the world, she was a bit creepy. Those big green eyes, watching me. Watching... Rather intently.

I sighed that weird horse sigh and bounced on my toes for awhile then said, "Soooooo... Where're the boys?"

"Oh!" She burst out, clearly having been in a daze, "Well, uh... Where to begin!" She laughed, "Charles is in his study, Hank is away on diplomatic business, and the boys that you know of... Well, all of the boys, actually, are out on a mission."

I snorted at that last word, "Mission? I'm sorry, we must be talking about a different batch of dunderheads. The guys I know are barely capable of wiping their butts let alone executing an operation successfully!" I chuckled into a clenched fist.

Jean joined my quiet laughter, "Yeah, but they all make a really great team. Incredibly dedicated and devoted when they want to be." She paused, "Emphasis on _want_ to be."

I kept chuckling, "Amen to that." I stopped to smile a bit when I suddenly caught something she said. The boys _that I know of_? Who else had joined our little rag tag bunch of freaks? I let my seldom used brain ponder that thought momentarily before voicing my curiosity, "You said something about there being more people here than back in the day?"

Her red hair bobbed a bit as she nodded, "Yeah. It gets a little crazy every now and again."

I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't. She just resumed that wide-eyed gleeful stare. I harrumphed, "Care to explain?"

"Oh!" She exclaimed, "Yeah, sure!

"Besides Scott, there's a handful of new recruits. There's Bishop; he mostly keeps to himself and is often very hard to get a hold of. He can absorb all sorts of energy and dispel it in bursts. It's pretty cool. His name and alias are the same so don't get confused. There's Alison, or Dazzler, if you will. She's newer, and younger, about 14 years old. So she doesn't go with the others on missions. Partially because of her age and her obscure abilities. Her mutation isn't really well documented other than that she can turn sound waves into light. Other than that we have no idea of what she can do.

"There's Lorna Dane, Polaris, if you remember Magneto's powers then you pretty much have her pegged. She's out on the mission, being the only girl on the response team, and she's also Alex's girlfriend. And let's just say she's not the most pleasant person around. There's Angel-"

I interrupted her schpeel, unable to stop myself, "Wait, Angel's back?"

Jean had not expected me to intercede like that. She didn't respond for quiet some time, "Ummm, no. This is a different Angel. A guy. And let's just say it's hard to keep your thoughts pure with him around." She teased when the cat gave her back her tongue.

"Handsome?" I asked in an uncharacteristically chipper tone, suddenly a bit more interested in the new Angel.

She nodded, "Not just that. His primary mutation is a physical one which prevents him from wearing shirts if he doesn't have to. Says it makes him uncomfortable."

I let out a low whistle. That sounded like my kind of guy. ... ... ... Right. Hank. Dammit. Love, what can you do? Grips you tight and never lets you go, "What's his mutation?" I finally asked. Forcing all images of a shirtless angelic man named Angel out of my forethoughts.

Jean tapped at her chin, "Other than the massive pair of feathered wings... I guess he's really strong."

My jaw dropped and stayed there upon hearing 'massive pair of feathered wings', "Wait... He's actually _got_ angel wings?!" I exclaimed, smiling this weird smile from the discovery. I closed the distance between us and held her hands in mine. I don't know why the thought of billowing white wings got me so excited. It just did.

The girl laughed with a quirked brow in my direction, "Yeah! Why else do you think he'd want his alias to be Angel?"

I shrugged, "It's the 60's. It's New York. People are weird."

"Agreed." Jean smiled genuinely before continuing her monologue on the other mutants, "Now... Where did I leave off?

"... Of course! Ororo! She's just a bit younger than me. Charles found her in Cairo a few years before the whole Cuba incident so when she got a bit older he sent us to 'retrieve' her. Her main mutation is her control over the elements. Blizzards, tornadoes, storms, all that cool stuff. And, fitting enough, her code name is Storm. She can even control lightning making you two very similar in that department.

"Last, and most certainly least, there's Calvin. Mimic. He's a jerk who blackmailed his way into the X-Men." Jean lamented with a deep scowl.

Now that was the slightest bit interesting, "How did he manage that?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Well..." She began, "He didn't so much as 'blackmail' his way in but we didn't really have a choice. He absorbed all of our powers."

My jaw dropped, absorbed? Was that even possible?!

Jean saw my dumbfounded expression and quickly rectified her statement, "Oh, no, he absorbed out powers as in he _mimicked_ them. Just his long exposure to us forced them to become permanent."

"Wow." I gasped, "Don't scare me like that ever again!" I finished with a laugh.

She chuckled, "Sorry. But he's just a real... A real..."

I quirked a brow, "Dick face?"

Another quiet laugh escaped her, "That's a pretty good description."

I bowed my head slightly, "Thank you." I paused, realizing that Jean had explained everyone and their gifts expect for hers, "So, Jeanny girl. What about you?"

The look on her face told me that she didn't comprehend, "What about me?"

I laughed, "What's your mutant package! How they found you, what's your mutation, codename, blood type, all that jazz!"

"Ohhhh." She chuckled again, "Charles found me back in 1962 but I was only twelve so he didn't recruit me. We just talked, us sharing similar traits to our mutation gave us a lot to 'talk' about." She finished with a mischievous smirk.

My eyes widened slightly at that, "Oh really? Do tell." I encouraged with a playful wink.

"I'm a telepathic telekinetic empath." She explained, "But my telepathy, actually none of my mutations are very strong, isn't nearly as strong as Charles'. So... If you find me staring at you, that's why."

Okay, that confused me, "Uh, I don't understand..."

She smiled at my apparent confusion, "My powers aren't strong enough to breach your mind. Scott's, Alex's, Sean's, even Charles' if he lets me. But you've got a nice thick shield, or whatever, around yours. Not only that, I can't control it, my telepathy, yet. So when I'm in a room full of people I hear a bunch of jumbled nonsense. But, when I'm looking at you, I don't hear a thing."

"That's because this do-dad's empty." I joked, rasping twice at my skull with my knuckles.

Jean let out a sincere laugh, "They were right! You are a riot!"

I shrugged, "I do what I can."

"I'm sure." She replied with a smile.

I returned the expression and we were greeted by a few seconds of silence when something suddenly occurred to me, "What are you doing here if everyone else is out on a mission?" I asked.

She continued to smile at me, though a touch of sadness reached her eyes. She wanted to be with them, that much was certain. "Well... I still can't control my powers very well. When I'm in the heat of it all I can get overwhelmed by all of the emotions everyone around me is feeling. The thoughts are pretty inhibiting as well." She said morosely, "Besides, I don't mind. Someone needs to stay behind to watch over Ororo and Alison. Oh, and Charles too."

Now that made me scoff, "Charles needs to be taken care of? What, he getting in trouble with telepathic poking and prodding? They kick him off the team?" I joked.

Jean's eyes widened incredibly, like what I had said was completely and absolutely preposterous. Where we talking about the same Charles Xavier? "Wow... I forgot that... I just thought... Uh..." She continued to stutter and mumble, "It's incredibly difficult for me to explain... Perhaps it's best if I showed you." She said cryptically, motioning for me to follow her as she headed towards the parlour.

We walked through the parlour, avoiding a chess table with only one chair and a chaise lounge facing the fireplace, into what used to be the drawing room, now it seemed to be a functioning study. Behind a fairly large chestnut desk sat none other than momma Charles himself. He was writing something on a piece of parchment with his old fart glasses balanced a very ways down on his nose. After finishing a sentence, Jean rasped quietly at the open door.

Charles looked up with a look of determination that soon turned to sheer joy. He removed his spectacles from his face and hooked them onto his breast pocket, "Maxine, it's good to see you."

I rolled my eyes, "You still insist on calling me that. You grubby telepath." I said without a hint of malice.

"Still as charming as ever." He teased, leaning back in his chair and fumbling with something on the arm of it. Suddenly he was moving backwards and his seat turned and forced him to face towards the wall. Wasn't that nifty... Wait... What the hell? He moved around the desk without moving himself. Once he came into full view I saw that the chair was moving... A wheelchair.

The day that I 'bit the dust' came back to the forefront of my mind. When a bullet ricocheted off Erik and into the base of Charles' spine. I had spent my last few moments trying desperately to prevent any permanent damage. It appeared as if my actions were in vain. Before me sat a paraplegic man I considered to be a foster parent, crippled and almost completely dependent on those around him. Tears formed in my eyes and then freely fell from their ducts. I squeezed my eyes shut and raised the back of my hand to the underside of my nose. In a matter of seconds I was full out sobbing. I pried my salty eyes open to concentrate on something in the room. They settled on the ceiling light above me. The intensity of it caused my eyes to burn and for more tears to come.

'_My dear, it's alright, this isn't your fault_.' Charles voice echoed in my mind.

I scoffed and moved the hand in front of my mouth to my hip, "The hell it ain't." I replied out loud, "I should've... I should've prevented this. I should've stopped Erik myself I just... I didn't want to hurt him!" I sobbed.

Charles wheeled himself farther forward and held my right hand in his, "Do not put the blame on yourself. I can at least feel my extremities because of you. Just because I cannot walk anymore doesn't mean your last sacrifice did not bare any fruits." He reassured me, lightly moving his thumb across the back of my hand, "I'm truly grateful for all that you've done. Truly."

At that last word I fell to my knees and cried my heart out. Jean was next to me soon after. She held onto my right arm and gently massaged my back. Charles maneuvered himself so he could rest his hand on my left shoulder. No one said anything. They just let me get it all out. Honestly I hadn't cried more in past fifteen years than I had in the past few weeks. Not since Gabe disappeared in a puff of smoke. Not since the man he was named after perished in the Korean War. It was... It was perfectly awful. I hated it. Just... I couldn't stop it. No matter how hard I wanted and tried to.

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**Author's Note: Sorry this is a couple of weeks late. I got a little stuck in the middle, finding the right storyline and all. Hope you guys like my mash up! We pretty much have the original X-Men team here minus Bobby. If you haven't noticed by now; this story is slightly AU where I've made Scott younger than Alex. Shout-out to all my reviewers, you're all fabulous. Yes, I have been in a longtime relationship with cliff hangers for quite sometime. But we've been having a falling out. Hahaha. I make myself laugh. Cliff hangers, falling. I'm hilarious. I also found the perfect theme song for Max. It's _Brother in Arms _by Young Guns. Give it a listen! Describes her general mindset to a 'T'! Hope you enjoyed the Chapter, the team gets back next chapter and we'll see _their_ reaction. Then we'll get into some of what I mentioned in _Revived Synergy_. Hank's reaction, Raven will show up soon, and Scott will explain everything to Max soon as well. Love you all, read and review! xoxo, Momma Love**

**P.S. My stories are BEST VIEWED at 1/2 PAGE.**

**EDIT: Added some crap, fixed the random ALL CAPS. That usually means italics since I can't do that sort of crap on my phone I leave it in caps so I know what I have to fix when I head on through.  
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**EDIT 2: CHAPTER SIX IS KICKING MY BUTT. I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON! NONE OF MY STORIES ARE SEEING ANY PROGRESS. HELP ME. OR KILL ME. KILL MEEEEE!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to OWLSCRATCH: one of my favourite author's, my sweetest friend, and one overly stressed chicka. I'm mostly dedicating this to her because she's only read chapter one so far because she's been so busy and if she reads everything that I've written I'm pretty sure she's going to make an attempt on my life. Eep. WELL. LOVE YOU GIRLIE. xoxo, Momma Love**

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**Eternal Synergy**

"_It is for us to pray not for tasks equal to our powers, but for powers equal to our tasks, to go forward with a great desire forever beating at the door of our hearts as we travel toward our distant goal._" - Helen Keller

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It happened. The most impossible thing ever to happen on this beautiful planet... HAPPENED. I, Maxine Edith Dugen-Fuller, was completely and utterly silent for more than five freaking minutes. After my reunion with Charles I had gone into a semi-conscious state. Dazed and absent. Almost catatonic on some level. Jean and Charles exchanged a look upon noticing my condition. Charles then grabbed hold of my hand and led me out of the room. All the while I was shuffling along behind him like a zombie, and Jean pulled up the rear with a supporting hand on my back. Probably thought I was just going to collapse or something. We eventually came to the kitchen after several twists and turns where Charles instructed my back support to make me a cup of tea. The fact that I absolutely hated tea must've slipped his overly active mind but I didn't complain. I didn't say much of anything.

Actually I _didn't_ say anything. As I said before, I was speechless for quite some time. I just sat at the breakfast bar that hadn't been there five years ago with a tea cup placed in front of me on a very pretty saucer. My arms were limp and dangling at my sides as I hunched over unattractively. Now that I think about it, is any sort of hunching "attractive"? Whatever, I'm getting side tracked. Once Jean poured me my cuppa, leaving a small porcelain pitcher of, what I assumed to be, either milk or cream, and a small bowl of sugar in front of me, she stood across the bar expectantly. The gesture was sweet, a shoulder to cry on, but I wasn't in the mood for talking and I surely wasn't in the mood for crying. So, after a few minutes of complete silence, Jean kindly excused herself from the room. Leaving me alone to wallow in my misery.

And what a depressing misery it was. The worst part was that it wasn't even misery. Not really. It was more along the lines of divine clarity. How could I have been so naive to think that when I 'went up in smoke' all those years ago things wouldn't have changed? That everything would've been rainbows and sunshine? Charles was shot in the back for Christ's sake. People don't just recover from that! No matter how hard you want them to! So what else had changed? Besides the likelihood that my long since dead brother was also back from the great beyond and wreaking havoc on my weak-willed mind? Honestly if that last bit was possible than _anything _could be possible. And, in this crazy world I live in, who would expect anything less?

I let out a sigh and poured the tea into the saucer that housed it. I watched the brown liquid ripple a bit, counting the rings... one... two... three... before it finally settled. Now if my storming life could do just that, ya know... freaking _settle_, then everything would be just peachy. But that would be too easy, wouldn't it? Whatever. I gave up. I leaned down onto the counter, pulling my arms, or as I liked to call them at that point in time, my dead weight, from my sides and plopping them down onto the granite counter in front of me. And, to top it off, I looked down at my serving of tea. My tongue started jutting in and out of the pool of tea of its own volition. Guess I decided to be a cat, for whatever reason. I didn't really care. And you shouldn't either. It's America. I can do whatever I want. It says so in the Constitution.

Which meant that I wouldn't be doing much of anything for the next few hours. People passed through the kitchen and tried to make conversation, or at least they looked like they wanted to. One glare from my piercing yellow eyes was enough to force them to rethink their intentions. Just how I liked it during those bleak hours. I was alone to enjoy my core riveting depression. Until some blonde chick sat down next to me. Up to that point no one had even attempted to bring me out of my pissy state. Partially my fault for scaring them away. Only partially. I peered over my arm at her. Curly strawberry blonde hair, naive blue eyes, the most pinchable cheeks I'd ever seen, a quizzical look, a crooked frown, and a cute little nose that I just wanted to gobble up. If I wasn't so utterly miserable I probably would've cooed over her, the adorable brat.

'The fuck she want?' I asked myself as I sneered silently at her. My eyes darting all over her person, trying to get a read on her motives. They settled several times on her face... something just seemed so familiar about it.

That's when it hit me. Replace her azure eyes for some moss green ones and I was looking at a near exact copy of Raven. A much younger version of Raven, to be precise, but Raven Darkholme all the same. Same expectant look in her eyes, like I was going to do something amazing, same hair that draped down her back in buckles. To the former I was rather intrigued. Guess I had a habit of performing spectacles. My latest only being my transformation into a frisky feline and my one way electric-charged trip from Albuquerque to Westchester. No mean feat, I assure you. But I honestly couldn't care less. Not then. Not when my world was not-so-slowly falling to pieces around me.

I forced myself to look away from the mini Raven, lest I came out of my silent coma, and I returned my concentration to my saucer. Didn't need a flashback from the past ripping out my heart, again. I'd already had enough of that, thank you very much. I was content with completely ignoring the brat when she asked, "What are you even doing?"

At first, I was intent on answering though I soon recalled my current state and settled for something much better. And something much more obscure. "Mrow." I audited. My open jaw forcing my head to lift slightly before snapping shut and, therefor, slamming back down.

I don't think she was expecting that. I wasn't either, actually. Out of the corner of my eye I could practically see the gears turning in her head. Trying to decipher my odd noise. The thought alone forced a shadow of a smirk to tease my lips. "What?!" She asked again with a bit of a laugh, giving up on her own deductions. I WAS a rather tough cookie to figure out.

"Mrrrooooow." I repeated, dragging out the 'r' and the 'ow', in an impatient tone. My brow furrowed and I had to suppress a hiss.

Again, she allowed herself a bit of time to think. Understandable. "Are... are you trying to tell me that you're a _cat_?" She continued to ask, since I hadn't really provided her any answers of any sort, her left eye brow quirking up towards her widow's peak.

I nodded weakly and resumed lapping up my bitter tea. Unconsciously I shoveled a spoonful of suger into my saucer and stirred it. After a test taste - it still tasted like tea. Bleck. Not really caring about the taste of my beverage, I resumed my cat-like behaviour.

The girl didn't really know how to respond to that, my _cat_ proclamation. Or to anything I was doing really. Eventually she settled for a generic question, "Why?"

I shrugged. Why be cooperative when you could be an awesome cat? Oh, and for the record, I hate cats. They're always plotting your demise. And they give you an odd brain disease, the fuckers. So the phrase "awesome cat" is in regards to me being awesome, and me pretending to be a cat. I'm not calling cats awesome. Not in the slightest. Hate those fucking creatures.

"Wow." She laughed as if she could hear what I was saying in my head. And, of course, me being in a house full of mutants, thought she could. My back went ridged temporarily and I amped up the electrical field around my skull. She didn't yelp or spasm in pain so I assumed she was reacting to me actually acting rather feline-ish. Crisis averted. "Depression does _this_ to you, does it? That sure is a new one."

I didn't offer a reply. I just glowered my yellow eyes at her with a sufficient amount of malice. There something wrong with my impersonations? No, I'd think not. So I'd glare at her. Whoever she was.

"Touchy!" She continued to laugh, "I wasn't trying to get under your skin I just didn't expect you to get so down so quickly!"

"Then what did you expect?" I offered in sarcasm. "... ... ... Who the hell are you anyway?" I returned, that being the first coherent thing I'd said in hours. Granted my every word was dripping with vehement skepticism. Hey, you better take what you can get and freaking ENJOY IT.

She gasped, well, mock-gasped. Bitch. "She speaks!" She let out yet _another_ laugh. Freaking hyena. Another thing I hate, Australia. More on that later. "I'm Alison." She continued. "And as to what I expected from the oh-so-infamous Synergy... I assumed you were going to grow a pair and get on with your life."

I feel like I've been saying this a lot lately, but, THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY. Such a rash statement coming out of such an adorable child? I hadn't expected it. Not in the slightest. "Well fuck you too!" I found myself saying, the mature adult I technically was supposed to be. Great come back Max. _Grrreat_ comeback.

"Sorry!" Alison apologized, "It's just... you're Max! The girl who stared Death in the face and ran right for him, hacking and slashing the entire way. You wouldn't think that finding out Charles is a paraplegic would've rocked you so thoroughly!"

I think she meant those words as a compliment of sorts, I was just too pissed to really accept them. Pissed being a very mild statement as to how I felt. Honestly? I was seething. And she was the one causing it. _Alison_. I clenched my jaw and said through my teeth, "Escuzemoi? Just because I feel sorry for-"

Alison held up a callused hand, interrupting me, and distracting me slightly. Why were her hands callused? "No." She objected. "This isn't empathy. Sitting here in a depression that even Jean can feel with her guerrilla powers, that's not empathy. Empathy is feeling for someone, knowing what's going through their head and being there for them. This? No, this, _this_ is defeat. This is someone who lost a battle with cancer. Just because the world moved on in your absence, and in ways that aren't exactly ideal, doesn't mean that you're allowed to shut down around every corner!"

Oh, that was it. She really knew how to get my blood boiling. I felt my powers clawing at my skin to reach the surface. More specifically, to reach her. And I couldn't exactly go electrically barbecuing recruits, so, naturally, I started to yell. "Says who?!" I barked. Just a segway from being a cat, being a dog. Woof. "Who the fuck says I can't sit here, pouting like a little bitch, feeling shit awful about one of my closest friends being _forced_ into a _wheelchair_?! The friend I used my last few moments of _life_ on?!"

"No one." She said in a tone that was considerably calmer and kinder than my own. Who said kids couldn't be reasonable? "It's just not in your nature. You don't _pout_." She paused to smile and lay a comforting hand on my shoulder. "You push."

I wanted to say something nasty, after the rage she incited in me. I just couldn't think of anything, or I actually didn't want to, deep down. So I settled for a snippy, "How would you know?"

Another smile graced her hauntingly Ravenesque face. Her eyes lit up and I swear that her skin was glowing a bit. "Because, every year, on October 26th, Scott regales us with epic tales of the most bad ass sister, friend, and X-Men any of us have ever known. From chasing pit bulls down her street to jumping on the roof of a bullies car and yanking them out of the open windows to give them a good pounding for calling her brother a faggot. I can't imagine that same girl leaning across a counter, sulking, for hours. And I have a pretty vivid imagination. No, this girl, she curb stomped hers and everyone else's problems and thrived in times of stress. And she most _definitely_ didn't sit around doing nothing when there was mayhem to cause."

Okay. That _de_escalated quickly. And colour me flattered. A deep blush creeped, okay, _rushed_, into my cheeks and I brought up my hand to scratch the back of my head. "She... uh... This girl... she sounds pretty cool... I guess..." I admitted. Knowing full well that Alison was playing me up so I'd be overwhelmed with the feeling to pull a Hank and retreat into a dark room separated from everyone else. Which was not my style, like, at all. But I was about to do just that when someone said,

"Well... she likes to _think_ that she is."

At first the look on my face was disbelief at the voice echoing from behind me. But eventually a devilish smirk coloured my face as I recognized the very familiar husky timber resonating through the room. I turned abruptly to see none other than Alex Summers propped up against one of the many secret passages to the basement in a full on black suit. The suit was actually unzipped to reveal a second skin tight (DAYUM) black suit with yellow X pattern across his chest that housed his energy disk. The uniform had changed considerably since I last saw it. I almost felt a bit self conscious about the older version I brought with me... speaking of which... where was my duffel?!

Max, stop getting distracted.

After I thoroughly analyzed Alex's new apparel I was overwhelmed with a dire need to hold onto the boy and never let him go, I threw myself out of my depressed state, across the room, and into my friends arms. I clung to him hopelessly as his muscular arms wrapped around my midsection. When I jumped at him I hadn't realized how I abruptly changed from a cat to a leech. My legs hooked around his waist, my arms around his neck, and my face to his shoulder. Wow, I was a leech.

Alex laughed when we came together. "Shit, Max, you've gotten fat! I can barely hold you up!"

I gawked at the blonde idiot. He then winked at me, signalling the fact that he was full of crap. But I already knew that. "I could say the same about you! You're almost too big for me to get my arms around you!"

He scoffed as he twirled me around in a circle, "You're mistaking fat for muscle, missy!"

I pulled myself away from Alex enough to look into his ice blue eyes. And, for once, he wasn't irritated with me. He smiled up at me causing this idiotic grin to become plastered on my lips. Throw some freckles on his face and give him some ginger hair and he could be one of my brothers. My mutant brother. I dove my head back down into his shoulder and held onto him for all that either of us were worth. He smelled like sweat. But what else was knew. Behind me I could hear Alison, as well as a couple of other people, chuckling. I peered back over my shoulder to find that one of my other favourite mutants had graced my presence. Alex, somehow, knew what I was going to do even before I did. We were just that close. He loosened his grip around me and I dropped to the floor, turning on my heel and running right for a certain gangly red head. Sean.

And he, not being as strong as Alex, stumbled back a bit when I threw myself at him. He 'oofed' and ended up laughing into my long black hair. "Nice to see you, too!" He managed to get out even with my arms in a vice grip around his neck.

I didn't say anything in return, I just nuzzled my face into Sean's now glossy shoulder length mane. The sheen to his hair could've easily been mistaken for grease. But it wasn't greasy at all. It was just so soft it was almost heavenly. As I rubbed my forehead across his silky locks I heard more chuckling. Over Sean's shoulder I could see this guy with a mess of brown hair smiling wide at me. Two rows of perfect teeth. His eyes were covered by some weird eye piece and he looked like... he looked like he knew me. I couldn't help staring at him as I held onto Sean. He was well built, tall, muscular. And he was wearing a dark turquoise unitard that cut off just below his jaw. Around his waist was a typical utility belt that just happened to be a vibrant yellow. A vibrant yellow that matched his boots and his... crotch area... Looked like someone dropped their whitey tidies in some yellow dye then forgot how to put his clothes on. I suppressed a snort. Honestly he looked a bit ridiculous.

My eyes flitted all over, taking in little physical quirks and mannerisms he carried. He held himself strong. His shoulders were squared and his arms were crossed over his muscular chest. He could've been my father standing at attention if he was a foot taller and two feet wider. I squinted at him and tried to figure out why he was so goddamn familiar.

His smile turned into a smirk at my difficulties as he said, "It's impolite to stare, Maxine."

_"Max... Scott... He's in New York. He's there with those people that you trained with before you died. He's been there for five years."_

The words that Lucas told me kept repeating over and over and over again in my thick skull. Bouncing off the walls and echoing to a point where it became almost deafening. Before I could stop myself, I was tearing up. I'd been told for weeks that Scott was older and living with the others. I just never imagined that the little brat that still needed his big sister to wipe the snot from his nose could have possibly grown up so much... And I missed it. Just like I missed Gabe...

"Jesus Christ, you guys!" Alison exasperated, "I _just_ got her back to neutral and now you've got her crying?!"

Sean pulled away from me to see if Alison was telling the truth. He held my shoulders at arms length as he watched tear after tear cascade down my cheek. Alison was telling the truth, alright. I brought up the heel of my palm up to my eyes and forcibly wiped the incessant tears away. I wasn't a pity case and I refuse to be treated like one. The boys didn't care. I wasn't some flimsy girl that cried over every little goddamn thing. I only cried when I was seriously messed up. They knew that. Only Alex and Charles had ever truly seen me sit down and have a good cry.

Sean lowered me back to the ground and brushed my hair from my forehead. "What's wrong?" He asked in a worried tone.

With a shaky hand I pointed to my little brother. I didn't really want to put him in the spotlight like that, I just didn't really think to stop. When I was all sad like that my brain functioned even more poorly. Everyone turned to Scott and his surprised expression with their own threatening ones. They were angry. "How was I supposed to know she'd see me and start crying?" He asked in a nervous tone, holding up his hands in defense.

My shoulders were shaking by that point. I turned back to Alex, never lifting my head up, and walked towards him. I pressed my forehead against his collarbone and pled with him silently. That was all it took for him to know what I wanted, nay, what I needed.

"Okay." He whispered to me. Then, to everyone else, he said, "I'm taking her to my room. Y'all can talk to her in the morning."

I heard someone step towards us, "I-I can take her if-"

The mere sound of his new voice made me choke out a sob. At the sound Alex wrapped an arm around me. "Scott... not now. She's not ready." Alex continued. The boy really did know what I needed more than anyone else. He didn't say a thing more as he led me from the room. He kept an arm around my shoulders as we ascended the staircase to the second floor. His fingers twirled my inky locks. A playful gesture. And I was grateful for it. We turned the corner once reaching the next floor and arrived at his room. He opened the door with his free hand and continued to lead me past the threshold but... we weren't alone.

"Hey babe, what's-?" Some woman asked.

"Lorna," He interrupted. "you're gonna have to stay with Jean tonight. Max is using our room 'til morning."

Lorna didn't sound happy with being forced out of her own room. "I know she's, like, a hero, or whatever, but this is _our_ room. Can't she-"

"No." Alex blurted out, interrupting his girlfriend yet again. "She needs to be somewhere familiar so she can calm down. You can deal without your precious bed from Egypt for one freaking night." He finished in a fit of anger.

Without another word Lorna stormed out of the room, clearly pissed that she hadn't gotten her way. Not even phased by her behaviour Alex bent down to pick me up bridal style and he placed me on his overly plush bed. He tucked me in after that, drew the curtains, turned out the lights, and left me in darkness. I needed to be alone to gather my thoughts and to cry freely. Believe it or not, I was holding most of it in. I'm sorry I sound like a whiny bitch but if I learned of even one more surprise in the next six hours then I'd probably just shut down completely. I don't handle change well... especially fives years of change in five minutes. Honestly if I hadn't been fucked over by fake Gabe, or real Gabe, or whoever he was, I probably would've been more accepting of Scott. But... I missed Gabe growing up because I was an idiotic child who shared everything with her younger brother. Then he was, possibly, thrown back into the world and he grew up without me as well. I just... I felt like I was losing my brother all over again. Twice in a month. It was more than enough to send me in a downward spiral.

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**Author's Note: Sorry for the late update! I literally stared at this every single day for about three weeks, hating it. I only had five chapters done and I absolutely LOATHED IT. At first I had Jean trying to comfort Max but Max doesn't need comfort. She needs a nice swift kick in the ass. So, Alison. I'm making her a little more grounded than the comic version of Dazzler (and thank God that announcement Marvel made on twitter was an April Fool's Joke, amirite?) for the purpose of Max not wanting to kill her. BUT! Things are going to get dark in this story. Hank is going to be more ferocious and Max is going to have a tough time separating past from present. OH! And I'm creating another ficlet to take place after _Eternal_. It's going to be called _Dual Syner__gy _and she's going to run into a favourite mutant of mine! Try to guess!**

**And, again, Max's theme is _Brother in Arms _by Young Guns, you can see FC for all the Dugen Brothers (including Gabe) and even Max, my stories are best viewed at 1/2 page, reviews make me do this weird little jitterbug thing, and I love you all! After Max gets hit with all of the HUGE information she won't be shutting down and the humour will resume! Sorry it's taking so long! Enjoy! TA! xoxo, Momma Love**

**EDIT: I forgot to warn you, Alex is going to be more like he is in the comics this time around. He's had some time to mature and learn how to trust others. He's not going to be all that similar to _First Class_ Alex Summers. Sorry!**

**EDIT 2: Fixed some format, grammar, and overall coherant-ness (I love making up words) problems of the chapter :)**

**EDIT 3: I'm rewriting a few chapters of _Perfect Synergy_, I might even edit some. And the entire thing is getting a once over from You May Call Me Goddess - Bitch Goddess to fix some grammar and some false anachronisms (to sum up that term: I was using slang that wasn't around in the 60's ;) nothing too bad). This is my last edit, I swear!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Eternal Synergy**

"_The heart is forever making the head its fool._" - Francois de la Rochefoucauld

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Don't let other people tell you otherwise, a good nights rest can solve most of your problems. Your physiological problems, to be more specific. Alleviates stress which, in part, can totally cancel out whatever crap you were worrying about the night before. So, if you're stressing, go catch some Z's. And hittin' the hay stops you from greying young. Bonus. Even my fucked up head seemed to have settled down when I woke up the next day after spending twelve hours in bed. I still wasn't at 100% emotional impact absorption by any means, but I was better. It's crazy how half a day on inactivity can just totally reset your receptors.

My eyes were bombarded the next morning by an intense heat and light. Of course the thing causing that was the sun but for right now I'm going to call it the raging ball of satanic fire. So the raging ball of satanic fire was attempting to bring my delicate eyes down to the many circles of hell and I couldn't have that. I brought the pillow I was lying on out from underneath my head and I pressed it against my sore face. Not only did the fabric incased pile of fluff soothe my poor eyeballs, it was cold and brisk and it forbad me from going back to bed. It was like a nice splash of ice water to the face. I pulled the pillow away from me, holding it at arms length, and muttered, "Fuck you, Egyptian cotton."

The feathery soft heathen was promptly thrown across the room and onto what looked like a vanity. Several little containers of perfume clanged and banged together forcing a physical wince out of me. I had already given Ms. Lorna an awful impression. I didn't need to make things worse. Once the bottles of fragrance stopped their clattering I let out a sigh that blew my bangs up into the air and I heaved myself up into a sitting position. Which proved to be slightly painful. Turns out I had fallen asleep whilst wearing a particularly snug pair of jeans. I looked around frantically for a practical replacement. My eyes settled on a pair of Alex's sweatpants. I threw my legs over the bed and made my way over to them. I pulled them up off the ground and I sniffed them. They smelled clean, thought there's only one place you CAN smell to determine cleanliness. Regretting my ballsy go-get-em attitude, I placed that specific spot on my shnoz and inhaled.

Dirty.

I hacked and I gagged and I puked a little in my mouth. Turns out that sensory rape wasn't necessary at all. Someone had kindly left my duffel at the end of the bed.

_WELL_.

I threw myself at the bag and tore through its contents. Eventually my hands got hold of a pair of my brothers sweats that I'd washed and then stowed away for my travels to New York. Okay, I stole them. And never had I ever been so thankful for my sticky fingers. I viciously squirmed out of the denim cocooning my legs and I stuffed them inside the duffel from whence the knit pants came. Glad to be free of the monstrous thing I yipped a bit in glee. Looking at the creases the jeans had left on my pale skin I furiously rubbed at them. Freaking red lines still kind of hurt. Not much I could do about that except for wait until my skin returned to its natural state with time. So I pulled on my brothers pants, from the length and the smaller waist I assumed they were Lucas', and gladly basked in the rapturous feeling of the soft fabric against my flesh.

With a little wiggle of my nonexistent butt I stepped over the piles of clothes and opened the door out into the hallway. Just as I was about to walk out, though, a familiar and distinct scent wafted in from behind me. I opened my mouth to be sure of what it was. A taste of the air told me who had materialised behind me. In the blink of an eye I slammed the door and turned to my assailant with my hands charging with energy. But in front of me was no enemy, it was Raven. I dispelled the energy and ran at her. Being so overwhelmed by her presence I almost didn't notice Azazel standing next to her with a hand placed on her lower back.

I say almost.

I glared at the devil incarnate as my arms wrapped around my blue skinned signora. Her face dipped into my shoulder and I felt the warmth of her tears wetting my shirt. She looked exactly the same as she did when she left with Erik back in Cuba. It was pretty crazy. Five years had passed and neither of us had aged a single day. What a pair we were. I pulled away from her and held her face in my hands.

"Look at you!" I exclaimed, wiping away her tears with my thumbs as she laughed. "I know I don't look a day older but I was out of commission! You've been livin' it girl and you've still got this adorable face!"

Beneath that blue skin of hers, Raven blushed. "Oh stop it..." She muttered, shying away from my touch only to have me bring her back. I pulled her closer so as to plant a light kiss in the centre if her forehead.

"I mean it. You're still breathtakingly gorgeous! You haven't changed. Not in the slightest." I finished before pulling her back into a constricting hug. Have I ever mentioned how much I liked hugging Raven? I mean, she's technically naked 24/7. What's not to enjoy?

I was about ready to start questioning her on the deal with Azazel, dude was just standing there watching her like the creep he was, when I felt something against my stomach. It was- it was _kicking_ me. My eyes widened and I pushed Raven away by the shoulders, granted I was holding onto them rather firmly, causing her companion to flinch. It was almost like he was resisting yanking her out of my arms and beating the crud out of me. I didn't really give him a lick of attention as I looked down at Raven's swollen abdomen. My jaw dropped and I returned my gaze to hers.

"No way." I breathed, a genuine smile coming across my shocked face. Raven nodded while rubbing her extended belly affectionately. "Raven! You sly dog! That's fantastic!"

"Isn't it?" She returned with a feel of pure bliss about her.

I crouched down so I was eye level with the baby bump. Carefully, I leaned forward, planted a kiss to her blue flesh, and whispered, "Hey in there. Now, you're probably gonna be born a bit different than the other kids." I started. "And that's perfectly okay. You have a wonderful mother who is going to love you and protect you from the people who would try and belittle you. You've got to remember that, above all else, there will always be a place in the world where people will accept you and love you for exactly who you are. It doesn't matter if you're born blue like your mom or with wings like a bat, you will always be welcomed by either the mutants fighting for equality through diplomacy or the ones fighting through violence.

"When the time comes you'll have to make a choice. And I know whichever one you choose will be the right one. And that I'll love you no matter what. Because you're going to be a force to be reckoned with, that much I know for sure."

A kind message to someone who probably couldn't even hear me from a girl who randomly offered words of a wisdom well beyond her years. I didn't care. The words I spoke needed to be said for the sake of the kid. I offered one more smile to Raven's belly before straightening myself out. Once I was upright Raven threw her arms around me again. I laughed and held onto my friend.

"Thank you." Raven said with a kiss to my temple. It was simple and caring gesture coming from a girl I truly adored. "But... There's something I need to talk to you about."

The sudden change in tone alarmed me slightly. I pulled her away and gave her a perplexed quirk of my brow. We weren't dating so she wasn't breaking up with me, meaning she had some serious stuff to tell me. She looked back at Azazel, giving him a single sharp nod of the head. That apparently held some meaning because he was gone in the blink of the eye, leaving us alone in Alex and Lorna's room.

As the red dust dissipated Raven turned to me. Her eyes were suddenly earnest and I could feel my heart rate starting to go bonkers. "Max... can you put an electrical field around us?"

My eyes widened. It was rare that I got asked those sorts of questions. "Yeah, that's definitely within the scope of my abilities... but can I ask why?"

"Things are different now." She said cryptically, leaning into me and lowering her voice. "You can't trust anyone here anymore. I really don't think you ever could. I don't want anyone knowing that I'm here."

I pulled away, looking at my friend with more than a bit of concern. "Raven, don't take this the wrong way, but I think the pregnancy hormones are making you a little cuckoo."

She 'tsked' at my in competence. "I'm being serious here! So can you put up a field around us already?"

Still not entirely convinced, I hesitantly did as requested. My energy spanned out and encased us in an electrical sphere. I made sure that my concentration was sound before asking, "Alright, what's going on?"

"It's Charles." Raven rushed out, still in hushed tones. "He's... He's different. I can't really explain it, Max, but a few years back he did something... he did something odd." She paused, as if gathering her thoughts. "It was almost like he was _controlling_ the others. And not to mention there's that whole business with your brother..."

That certainly piqued my attention. My hands went to her shoulders and my grip tightened around them. "Gabe? Charles knows about Gabe?"

Raven looked around nervously, as if someone was watching us. And I was usually the paranoid one. She eventually settled back with me and said, "That's the thing... we don't know. But there's a mental block blocking years of his memory. A kind of block that no ordinary telepath could've placed. The only one we know of with enough raw power is Charles."

"I'm sure there's other powerful guys and gals like Charles out there." I tried to defend my old friend. "It doesn't really suggest anything..."

Dejected by my denial, Raven let out a heavy sigh. "I guess you're right." She admitted. "Just... be careful. Will you? You can't be too cautious these days, right?"

"Girl..." I chuckled. "I don't do cautious well, but I'll try."

With that promise Raven snapped her fingers and Azazel rematerialized not even a second later. I kissed her once more on the cheek and waved goodbye, only realising once they were gone why he was being so protective of her in the first place. My jaw dropped. It took me a second to compose myself, but I managed it. Now that I was alone I let out a small fart I had been holding and I teased my hair a bit. It was about time that I met up with the others. I went for the door for a second time and stepped out into the hallway. But when I reached to pull the door shut, someone knocked into me.

"Watch where you're going."

Whoever he was, he walked right past me without stopping. Didn't bother to see if I was okay. And instead of seeing his retreating back I saw a pair of large feathery white wings that seemed to be a little cramped, even in such a wide hallway, bouncing a bit as he walked. The guy Jean had told me about, Angel, fit the description of the douchebag who didn't bother to look where he was going. Only this guy was wearing a neon orange suit as opposed of the shirtless attire I had been told about. Besides, I don't think a girl like Jean would've gushed over an asshole such as orange unitard man.

Then I remembered the guy she referred to as _Mimic_. How he had somehow _stolen_ the powers of the other mutants. Perhaps that was him. In case it was, I called after him. "Asswipe."

No entirely original, I know. But I didn't know the guy well enough to jab at his weak spots. Apparently my words were enough to warrant a reaction, no matter how small. He looked back over his shoulder, his upper lip raised in a sneer. Over his eyes was a gizmo similar to the one I had seen on Scott's face, further suggesting that he was the one stealing mutations. Speaking of which, I missed the gang. I missed my adopted brother. I missed my mutant brothers. I missed that little brat Alison. I smirked slyly to myself as I prepped myself for some physical endeavours. I crouched down into a running stance and I ran after the guy I suspected to be Mimic. As I got closer, he began to sense my presence. He turned quickly only to see me disappear in a flash of light. Me, being a showy, competitive, and loyal little shit, I had flashed past him, confusing him, allowing me to side-sweep the losers legs, sending him to the ground with an 'ooph'. He started to curse at me but I was already at the bottom of the stairs, cackling the whole way as I ran towards the den.

Let's just say... I made an enemy that day.

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**Author's Note: God, I'm awful with updating this story. I have most of it planned out, though, so I'm hoping the next chapter won't take so long. I'm not making any promises because I'm awful at keeping them. Read and review, xoxo, Momma Love**

_**Y'all are fantastic!**_

**My stories are best viewed at 1/2 page.  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**Eternal Synergy**

"_If you want a vision of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face - forever_." - George Orwell

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"Hey. I was waiting for you to get up."

I skidded to a halt when I heard the familiar voice calling to my attention. In front of me, lounging across a moss green couch with a crinkly-eyed smile on his face and a visor covering his eyes, was my favourite mutant. And my favourite brother. I beamed at my little Scottie and threw myself into his welcoming arms without a moments notice. Thank Gandhi for fast reflexes. He caught me before I could crash into the wooden frame of the couch, or through the window, with a laugh.

"Still reckless as ever. You can't just throw yourself at people and expect them to catch you!" He joked as he gently squeezed me and teased his fingers through my tangled bed head.

I giggled a bit. "Were you expecting a girl who had achieved divine clarity and after shaking hands with death she had a realization to live her life more cautiously?"

Scott pulled me away from his and gave me a slanted frown. "What the hell are you spewing?"

"I have no freaking clue." I admitted, putting my head back into his shoulder and nuzzling my face against his neck.

He laughed some more. "I expected as much."

It didn't take long for my memories of my little brother flooded my subconscious. His sweet little smile when he was adopted into the family, his dewy eyes just before he'd cry, his reluctantly happy face after my brothers or I beat up whoever was bullying our little brother, and his infectious laughter when he legally became a Dugen-Fuller. Yes, I missed most of his life as a part of my family due to my five year hiatus, but I was so glad to have him back in my life. I lifted my head a bit when I opened my mouth to sigh and it jostled Scott's eye gear. I'd all but forgotten the thing despite the fact that I was really curious about it.

I pulled myself away and poked the metal contraption. "So are you going to tell me what's so bad about your mutation that you need this over your pretty brown eyes?"

To that he gave me a sad smile, which I returned with a worried look as I lowered myself down on the cushion next to his. "You figured out that I'm a mutant?" He asked.

That worried look disappeared fast. I rolled my eyes at my seemingly ditsy brother. "Contrary to public record, I'm not _that_ dumb. I wasn't going to think that Charles let you stay here for five years just so you could flirt it up with Jean."

He snorted at my sarcastic reply. "Yeah. That wouldn't make any sense."

"No, it wouldn't." I concurred. "Now, spill, Cyclops."

Another laugh erupted from him. "Well you've hit the nail on the head there!"

My eyes widened, I had no idea what'd I'd done. "What?" I mumbled, not really sure how to react.

"That's my codename." He explained with a cheeky sort of grin. "Cyclops."

I laughed at the name. "Now why the hell would you make _that_ your codename? I know you smell like you live in a cave, but you're hardly a giant. And, last I checked, you have two eyes, not one." I paused briefly in a slight shock. "You still have both your eyes don't you?"

He smiled. "Yeah. Alex first called me Cyclops because my headgear used to have a circular lens instead of a flat horizontal one."

"So why'd you keep the name?" I continued.

He smirked knowingly. "Just watch."

Scott turned so he was looking out the window directly behind us. I did the same, folding my arms and leaning on my crisscrossed wrists. Scott pushed the window open and moved his head from side to side as if scanning the area. His eyes settled on a tree off in the not-so-far distance and smiled. He fiddled around with a dial on the side of his headgear and suddenly a pair of bright red lights streamed out from where his eyes should've been, combining into one after some distance, and set the tree on fire.

Let me be honest, I sure as _hell_ wasn't expecting that! When I pictured Scott as a mutant I was picturing an empath, truthfully. He was always able to diffuse the most hectic situations at home. Not matter how well my brothers got along they still punched each other in the face every now and again. But Scott could calm them down! Maybe it was because a freaking thirteen year old was getting in between the fist fights of big burly guys who were pushing thirty.

"Jesus _Christ_, squirt! You've got some major mutant mojo goin' on here!" I admitted with glee. Finding out my little brother was a mutant badass for good was a really great feeling! As opposed to finding out that my twin brother was a little fucker who enjoyed bringing my worst fears to life. Yeah. That sucked.

"Yeah, I know." He admitted in a moderately conceited tone. And rightfully so! Still, I punched him in the arm. "Ow! Just because I'm bigger doesn't mean your punches hurt any less!"

I smirked. "Damn straight, son!"

"Why are you two being so freaking loud?" A feminine voice called from the doorway. I looked up to see Lorna glaring at us as she raked her hand through her disheveled brown hair.

I was going to say something snarky when I remembered that I practically kicked her out of her room. So instead of being a bitch I settled for being slightly kind and a bit considerate. "Uhh, thanks for letting me stay in your room last night, Lorna." I said gratefully.

She let out a laboured sigh. "I didn't really get a say in the matter. Alex just blew through that situation without talking to me about it. But you're welcome, or whatever."

With that she shuffled off towards the kitchen and left us alone, yawning the entire way. Making me think that complaining about how loud we were being was more of a passing thought than the thing that got her out of bed that morning. Lorna and I wouldn't get along all that often during my stay there. Our personalities are too abrasive on both ends of the spectrum, meaning if one would push the other would shove. I don't mind, I can't get along with everyone, nor is that my goal.

Back to me and Scott. "Your powers actually remind me a lot of Alex's, to be honest. Same red energy and same levels of destruction. Just his comes out of his chest and yours through your eyes." I paused then said, "Speaking of which, does it hurt?"

"Does what hurt?" He asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Shooting lasers out your head via your eyeballs, ya ninny!"

When I said 'ninny', Scott snorted in laughter. "No, it doesn't. I just can't control it."

"I'm sure you could with training-"

"No I mean I literally can't." He continued. "The part of my brain that would control it is a bit banged up. I physically can't control my mutation and it kind of sucks."

My jaw dropped. I had no clue that my little bro had brain damage. Had-had we caused it? We rough-housed a lot back home. Sometimes we didn't know when to stop.

Scott seemed to know where my mind was wandering by my expression. "Don't worry, it happened before I was adopted by you guys. I was parachuted out of a plane when I was a baby."

Again, my jaw dropped. "What the hell! How'd you figure that?"

Before Scott could respond another voice from the doorway caught our attention. This time, it was Alex. "I think that's where I come into the story."

"Perfect timing." Scott sighed in relief.

Alex trudged into the den, plopping down on the couch beside me. "You know me, Mr. Punctual." He said sarcastically.

I whipped my head 'round to look at the two over and over again. I was so confused. "Okay, what the hell are you two talking about?"

"There's a reason why our mutations are so similar, Max." Scott started, looking over my shoulder at Alex before continuing. "We just... we don't know how you're going to handle the information."

I groaned loudly. They were treating me like a damn child! That may have been warranted twenty-four hours prior but if they treated me with kid gloves any longer I was going to explode! "I assure you, I'm perfectly capable of withstanding whatever news you throw at me." I spat. "I know I had a bit of a breakdown yesterday but I've recovered from that. So you can tell me and I won't flip out. Scout's honour." I raised my hand in the air as it brandished the Scout's symbol. And with the other hand I portrayed a Maxine favourite.

"Well... you remember how I told you I was thrown out of a malfunctioning plane when I was younger, right?" Alex asked tentatively while furiously running his hand through his hair. I nodded. "Remember the little brother I said didn't make it?" Another nod. "Well turns out I was wrong. Really wrong. My little brother was found before me and a different police department picked him up. He was brought up in foster care, like me, and then adopted when he was eight years old by a family in New Mexico. He was there until a few years ago when he came to New York looking for his adopted sister."

As he spoke I was piecing everything together. Especially when he mentioned his little brother was adopted by a family from New Mexico. I knew what he was subtly trying to say. That Scott and him were brothers. Brothers who were separated due to a tragic accident. One saved by a seemingly ordinary family, the other left in foster care until he aged out. I can see why he was trying to tell me so discreetly. It _did_ warrant a pretty strong response from my gaping mouth. Just maybe not the one they were expecting.

"HOLY SHIT. WE'RE, LIKE, ADOPTED SIBLINGS!" I yelled just before pouncing on my newly acquired brother. I wrapped my arms around the sleepy lug and squeezed and squeezed and squeezed. Alex was already my brother in my eyes. But now there was an actual link between us. And I thank Scott every day for it. Alex's my brother and I love him! Not that I'll ever admit that out loud, much less his face.

"That went better than we expected." Scott laughed from behind me.

I quickly turned to glare at him. "I know that the only experience you've had with me since I've been back is me blubbering like a baby at the mere sight of you but if you can't remember how tough I am we should head outside and I'll gladly refresh that faulty memory of yours!"

Both of the boys laughed at my statement. Hopefully it wasn't in disbelief because I would gladly, and easily, kick their asses into next week.

"Alright, no throwing punches just yet." Alex laughed as he peeled my arms off of him. "I actually came downstairs to tell you that I checked the hangar before going to bed last night. And according to the flight manifest, Hank flew in last night."

Upon hearing that I was grinning like a love struck child. I had been without my hunky blue mutant for too long. There was one person I really wanted to see since I got back. And it was Hank. He was my better half, my smarter half, my conscious, and my first love. I was about to throw myself from the room but, first, I slapped Alex.

Holding his reddening cheek, Alex barked, "What was that for?"

"'Hank's here' should've been the first thing out of your mouth, like, twenty minutes ago." I said with a 'hmmph' and a stubborn lift of the nose. I stood up and I headed back towards the stairs. I wasn't really all that mad, I wasn't mad at all, actually. I just couldn't contain the pure euphoria pulsing through me and it was accidentally portrayed through hand on face violence.

Not my fault, I swear!

So I took the stairs two at a time to get to Hank's room. To say that I was ecstatic was an understatement. Once I was actually _there_ I prepared myself mentally to the best of my poor ability. Some things I had to remember: Hank was five years older, putting the age gap even further between us. Eight years. Yikes. Also it'd been five years and, contrary to Hank's belief, it was possible for him to have been with another woman. Though I'd be a bit sad, I'd still love him, no matter what. No matter what he looked like, how many dates he'd been on, or how many grey hairs he had. I just prayed that the greys weren't all that noticeable.

That's when I realized that no matter how long I prepared myself, I was still going to turn into a puddle of goo when I saw him. So I knocked on his door with surprisingly wavering conviction. And not to mention that I felt really weird. My palms were a bit sweaty and I was overall very anxious. If I ever went on dates I'd be pretty sure that I was experiencing first date jitters. Godawful feeling. But when Hank opened the door, the nerves just washed away. I exhaled audibly and smiled up at my beautiful man. When he just stood there staring at me in disbelief I took a step towards him, got up on my tiptoes, and pecked him right on the lips. But my tiptoes weren't enough! I had to dig down deep for my ballet training and balance solely on my big toes. He was taller, that's for sure! After allowing him to kiss me back I lowered myself down to the ground and continued to smile up at my beautiful Beast. Hank brought up a shaky hand and held my cheek in it, his feral yellow stare softening the longer we gazed at each other.

But as time passed, something felt off. I didn't know what, at the time, I just sure as hell wished that I could've gone back in time and told myself to swoon less and listen to my instincts. Because eventually his soft gaze would turn harsh and vicious. His claws elongated and embedded into my soft cheek. He reached his grasp around and held the side of my skull in an iron clad grip. He then took my head and slammed it into the doorframe. And he did it again and again and again. I felt the blood pooling out on my cracked skull and the tears trickling from my eyelashes. The last thing I saw before I lost consciousness, Hank's yellow eyes looking upon me in pure hatred. A burning hatred like I had never seen before, and perhaps I haven't seen any like it since.

* * *

**Author's Note: So I used an explanation for Scott's lack of control that's not widely accepted in the nerd universe, but I like. I think it makes sense. Wrote this all in six hours. Ever since I read what Steven Moffat had to say on writer's block, I've been having it less and less. If you have writer's block then you probably wrote something wrong and your brain won't let you continue until you fix it. I took that to heart and scrapped _E. Synergy_ Chapter Eight! Haha!**

**Future: I'm got _Dual Synergy_ and _Dark Synergy_ in the line-up, both to take place in between this story and whatever I'm calling the one to coincide with _Days of Future Past_. I've also got a bit of _Avenging Synergy_ done. I'm so excited! Read and review kiddies! xoxo, Momma Love**


	9. Chapter 9

**Eternal Synergy**

"_Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever._" - Lance Armstrong

* * *

As I was lying unconscious on someone's bed I relived my latest trauma over and over again. I couldn't believe that just happened. Hank, he... he couldn't have! There was no way the Hank McCoy I knew would purposely bludgeon someone's skull as thoroughly as he did mine. The fact that I knew he did, in fact, use my head as a battering ram, just added to my utter confusion. My head was already swimming with so many questions, not to mention swimming in blood. _Why_ would he do that to me? To anyone? What did I do to provoke him? What could I have possibly done to incite such anger? What was wrong with him? And, honestly, was I dead?

I only asked myself that last question because when I opened my eyes brights lights spotted my vision and I could barely see the distinct outline of two large white feathery wings in front of me. I squinted at the figure. It seemed to be that of a male origin. Had God sent me a steaming hot angel to guide me to the big morally sound waste bin in the sky? If so, I didn't mind. But he wasn't an angel. At least not in the sense that he was a servant of God.

"How the fuck did I make it into heaven?" I groaned as I worked to peel myself off of the sweat soaked mattress I had the displeasure of finding myself on. I pushed myself up onto my elbows and rubbed my tired eyes.

The feathery wings came towards me, creating a nice breeze. "You're awake!" A male voice exclaimed. "But, um, you really shouldn't be moving around yet, you were beaten pretty harshly."

I arched an incredulous brow at my angel friend. "What does it matter, I'm dead anyway." I continued to groan while I forced myself into a sitting position.

"What...?" He asked, clearly confused. Then he made a sound of understanding and laughed. "Oh, I'm not an Angel I'm just... Angel!"

My sarcastic eyebrow continued its sassy stance. "Yeah, I got that much, angel."

As my vision became clearer I saw my feathered friend shaking his blonde head. "No, I mean, I'm Warren Worthington the Third. Codename: Angel, classification: mutant." He cleared up with a warming smile.

Too bad I had a raging headache so that warmth was just enveloped in my cold demeanour and snuffed out completely. "Those morons seriously thought leaving the angelic fellow at the bedside of a girl who just experienced severe cranial trauma was a good idea?" I exasperated.

"Well they're all out looking for Hank." He informed me. "After I scouted the area I volunteered to stay behind to make sure that you were okay."

I blushed a little. The thought of such an attractive guy caring about me so genuinely made me feel a little giddy. "Then, uh, thank you, Angel." I offered before looking out the window and away from my muscular male guest. For he was shirtless and ripped and beautiful. Jean was right, it was hard as hell to keep my thoughts purely innocent around Sir Warren Worthington.

"But, seriously, you should lay down." He said worryingly, distracting me from my horny musings, as he tried in vain to ease me onto my back. "Charles said he could see through the blood and right into your skull. He thinks that your brain's been damaged on top of your head being split open. You _really_ shouldn't get up yet."

'_Is that right?_' I asked myself before I tentatively probed my throbbing wound with my fingers. There was a lot of dried blood, that's for sure. "Yikes." I breathed when I found myself touching something hard, i.e., my skull. I would've pressed on to touching my squishy brain, mostly just to prove to myself and everyone else that I did, indeed, have one, but I don't think that that would've been the most sanitary thing ever. "Hank really did a number on me." I breathed quietly.

Thinking that it wasn't advised to have my brain tissue exposed to the world, I jacked up the electric juice and started to heal. First was my injured brain. I didn't actually feel that wound close, mostly because my brain didn't hurt because there are no pain sensors upstairs in anyone's noggin. Next was my skin. I definitely felt that one. I felt it crawl and creep, ew, over my cracked skull until I could no longer feel a breeze inside my head. The only thing I couldn't heal was the bone. There's no electricity running through that part of the body and I couldn't work it into overdrive like I could everything else. But regardless of my injured skull I still felt a million times better. My headache was gone, for one, yet the throbbing beneath the skin remained. Honestly what did I expect. Well I was close enough to being 100% so I didn't really care.

"Wow, so you really can heal all on your own..." Warren exclaimed as he eyed my healed scalp.

I nodded sluggishly and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I also made sure that I could operate all of my limbs. Hank could've shaken my entire brain loose had he continued his assault. I had to make sure that there wasn't much damage to the brainstem. "I got everything except for the bone." I said eventually. "But unless you guys decide to play wallball against my head that shouldn't be a problem."

That got me a very melodious laugh out of Mr. Worthington. Wow, he was really an angel, wasn't he? He even laughed at my jokes! "I'll make sure the guys get the memo. No using Synergy's head like a ping pong ball."

I smirked at the thought of my head being bounced across a ping pong table and tried to stand. My legs were a bit wobbly. Of fucking course. Luckily for me Warren saw this and offered me his arm. If he hadn't I probably would've fallen on my ass. I gladly took his muscular appendage and allowed him to lead me out into the hallway. I was a bit worried that he wouldn't be able to fit through the door because, well, his wings were freaking massive. They spanned at least ten feet. I don't think that was as far out as they could spread. But, like a bird, he tucked his wings away and walked right through the doorway without so much as a hesitation. Like he knew they'd move on their own.

We walked slowly down the corridor, mostly because I had a hard time moving without falling, not saying much of anything. Or nothing at all. But I don't like silence, you see, it forces me to think. To think of all the horrible things that have happened in my life. And, lately, there've been a lot.

"I've always wondered about physical mutations." I blurted out suddenly, almost startling Warren. "Do your wings feel like any other part of your body? Like an arm or a leg? Because that's how I've always pictured it."

After regaining his composure, he nodded. "When they first sprouted from my back when I was younger it was really strange. It's like I was already used to having them but I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that I'd turned into a bird." He chuckled briefly. "I barely even notice them anymore. They've been a part of me for most of my life now and they only inconvenience they present is I can't wear shirts because of them. So other than being a little cold in the winter, they're like any other part of me."

I smiled. I sort of always thought that people afflicted with physical mutations were self-conscious. I was glad that that wasn't the case for all of them. "That sounds really cool." I admitted. "I wish I was a mutant."

He looked confused again but, as before, quickly came to realization. "That's riiiight, you weren't born with your gifts were you?" Warren asked just as we came to the end of the hallway. He wrapped my arm across his shoulders and helped me down the stairs.

Between biting my lip in frustration and swearing under my breath I shook my head. "Nope. Radiation's my source and saviour."

The energy around him turned a bit somber. Sometimes I hated how I was like everyone's personal mood ring. I could read all their emotions whether I wanted to or not. "I'm really sorry about that." Warren offered quietly.

I shrugged. "It really isn't a big deal. I'm fine with it. What kills you makes you stronger, right?" I joked as I purposefully botched that phrase.

Warren laughed, despite his morose energy. "Let's just hope that doesn't happen again."

"True that." I agreed.

When we hit the last step I sighed in relief. I then realized that after a few steps I wasn't heading towards where I wanted to be. I wanted to go to the bathroom but I was being led towards Charles's office. "Where are we going, anyway?" I asked though I was pretty sure I knew the answer.

"Charles wants to talk to you about Hank. He knows more about the situation than anyone else here." Warren explained. "And he wants to give you all of the facts so you don't make any false assumptions."

I nodded. It made sense but it didn't make my bladder any less full. We were silent after that. And until we came to the door to Charles's study nothing really happened. Warren removed my arm from his shoulder and gave my hand a slight squeeze. Before he could even raise his hand to knock we heard, "Come in." We smirked at each other and I reached for the doorknob. Charles was behind his desk fiddling with a radio, a strange look on his scholarly face. He beckoned us forward without looking at us. Warren led me into the room and helped me into the same plush chair I was in when I realized Charles was a paraplegic. I'm going to call that my trauma chair.

After successfully turning off his radio and pushing aside a stack of papers Charles leaned onto his desk. "Ah, Max, it's good to see you're alright."

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I could be better but I can't complain."

Charles nodded solemnly. "Of course, of course." He muttered. "You've been through quite the ordeal, again."

I snorted. "Seems to be a recurring theme in my life."

"Yes, quite right." He agreed, grabbing his glasses from his breast pocket and sliding them onto his face while glancing at his radio again. When he caught me staring he shook his head and resumed his saddened look. "You're probably wondering why Hank attacked you."

"Uh, duh." I groaned with a roll of the eyes.

Despite my sarcasm, Charles smiled. Bless him. "It's understandable. I just wish that I had the time to break the news to Hank that you were alive. I wasn't even aware that he'd returned from the United Nations."

My eyes widened at the sound of the mighty U.N.. "What the hell was he doing there?" I asked in an utter disbelief.

"Hank is working inside the system to help the public be more welcoming to the eventual awareness that mutants walk amongst them." He explained. "He's a diplomat fighting peacefully for our rights."

"They don't mind that he's a freaking blue mutant himself?" I continued to ask. It seriously seemed like whenever I talked to Charles I got more questions than answers.

"They aren't aware to his true nature." Charles admitted, his eyes having trouble looking at me. "He's concocted a serum to revert his appearance back to what it was."

'_Did I hear him correctly?_' I asked myself. Pretty much everything I had done before I died was to ensure that Hank was proud of himself no matter the colour of his skin. The fact that he could revert back to brunette, blue-eyed, eternally timid Hank whenever he wanted rendered my actions completely useless!

"Why the hell would you condone that?" I half-yelled, half-nearly leapt over the desk and strangled the crippled man.

Charles held up his hands to stay my violent thoughts. "He only uses it when he needs to be Henry McCoy out in public. Otherwise he's Beast through and through."

I guess I understood why he wanted to look "normal" so I didn't try to main Charles further. "Still..." I sighed. "I wish he didn't have to change for anyone ever."

"As do we." He agreed. "But the world isn't ready for mutants yet, let alone a blue skinned mutant diplomat."

"I guess..." I muttered, hoping we'd be dropping the subject soon.

Charles offered me a gentle smile. "I assure you, it's a necessary evil. But enough of that. All of that can be further explained to you by Hank if we can calm him down. Besides that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted you to understand what caused his psychotic break."

My eyes widened. "He's not actually psychotic, is he?"

"He has his episodes, though this was the first in a long while." He neither denied nor confirmed before looking up at my escort. "Warren, if you could wait outside while I explain everything to Maxine."

'_My name's Max goddammit!_' I projected but Charles didn't seem to pick it up. That was the first time _that _happened.

Warren nodded. "Sure, professor."

With the angel out of the room, Charles tented his fingers and rested the underside of his chin on the peek. "Now, then, where to begin..."

"The beginning's usually a good start." I suggested in a half-sarcastic, half-joking tone while crossing my arms.

"Of course." He said with an odd smile. "It all started almost immediately after you perished, Hank's diminished mental capacity to discern reality from insanity. So much happened to him in so little time. The body he had lived in all his life was suddenly transformed into something more animalistic and fierce in the blink of an eye. Then he lost Raven to Erik, a dear friend to him. When we lost you he was already at the breaking point. Day by day he became more ferocious and feral. Sean and Alex could barely hold him back. That's how strong he'd become when he'd fall into a brief psychosis. Eventually, though, the rage stopped. But we soon learned that it didn't just stop. It was channeled through him in other aspects. Possibly in even more detrimental and deadly ways than him attacking us.

"He began to hallucinate. Mostly about you. He would hold conversations with these hallucinations and became severely hostile upon realizing that his eyes were betraying him. Over time the reactions diminished and occurred less often. We thought that to mean that he was no longer hallucinating only to learn that he wasn't able to tell when his mind was playing tricks on him and when he was faced with reality. His fantasies became real and I had to intervene before his ability to tell truth from illusion was completely lost. With a sort of telepathic therapy over the course of several he came to terms with your death and he became stable once more. The visions stopped and we had Hank back. Though it would seem that my work didn't last, it just stopped the hallucinations and suppressed the psychotic episodes." He paused to take a sip of tea. "So when you approached him he probably thought you were an illusion, bringing back that animal rage and inciting him to attack you. As much as I want to I don't know if I can help him to realize that you're back. So much effort was put in to do the exact opposite. There may be nothing I can do, honestly. But I'll try, I assure you that my dear."

By the end of his monologue I was tearing up. He wheeled himself around and held my shaking hands in his. "I know it's painful to think about. To you more-so than the rest of us."

My head hung in sadness, tears brimming and cascading down my cheeks. Charles handed me his handkerchief, something I accepted gladly. I wiped away my salty tears and let out a choked sob. "Is he..." Sob. "Is he going to be okay?"

Charles sighed and brushed my hair from my face. "I don't know, dear. But if there's anyone who can bring him back, it's you." He smiled gently. "Now, why don't you tell me what you've been doing since you've returned to us."

* * *

**Author's Note: Oh my freaking God. Two chapters, three days. That's ridiculous. Absolutely magnificently ridiculous! But Hank isn't going to get better right off the bat. They're not even going to find him for another chapter, at least! Next one we're heading back to Russia! "But, Momma, why are they going to Russia?" Good question! You guys must not've noticed the character I threw in! Tsk tsk! Oh well, you'll see soon enough! Read and review my darlings, I love you all! xoxo, Momma Love**


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